


The Woes of War

by Ethereal_Wishes



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-14
Updated: 2017-06-09
Packaged: 2018-08-30 22:21:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 24,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8551408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ethereal_Wishes/pseuds/Ethereal_Wishes
Summary: Rumple returns from the battlefront after being branded a coward to find his newborn son in the arms of a beautiful chestnut haired beauty named Belle, a distant relative of his wife Milah.He’s saddened to learn his wife abandoned their son at only a few days old but is relieved to know his wife’s cousin is willing to help him with the infant. He isn’t prepared when feelings begin to spark between them.





	1. Chapter 1

Woes of War: Part One

A/an: I'm finally back after my long hiatus with some fresh new inspiration. I'm aware I have ALOT of WIP which I do plan to finish, especially "Compensation". This story will most likely be only a few chapters long.

The wars had pillaged and stolen from everyone. There were mothers who would never hug their sons again and wives who would never kiss their husbands. Rumpelstiltskin hobbled down the lane with his eyes downcast towards the ground. He'd purposefully injured his leg after a seer had prophesied his demise in the upcoming battle. He cared little for his life, but the seer had told him he was to be a father. His wife was pregnant, and he reminded himself of this with each painful step he took. He ground his teeth together with each step, until he reached the hovel. He pushed open the door to be greeted by the aroma of a delicious stew cooking over the fire.

"Milah?" he called out hoarsely, scanning the small room for her familiar face. His heartbeat, a tattoo against his chest from how she'd receive him. She was bound to know of his betrayal. News traveled quickly from the front lines. He sat down in an old wicker chair when she didn't emerge and decided to wait. His stomach gave a low rumble, and he licked his lips as he glanced at the stew simmering in the pot above the fire. He pealed his ears when he heard the cries of a newborn and the sound of soft footfalls coming from the other room. It would be too much of a chore to move, so he sat quietly in anticipation. He was perplexed to see a young woman with her chestnut hair pulled back in a messy braid emerge from the other room. She was holding an infant close to her breast, attempting to console him.

"Who are you?" he inquired, gazing at the woman who most certainly wasn't his wife. She was much more youthful than Milah. She halted, holding her hand over her heart in surprise as she fixated her gaze on him.

"You must be Rumpelstiltskin," she remarked, patting the wailing infant lightly on the back to calm him.

"I am, but my question is, who are you?" he demanded, becoming irritated by this entire scenario. She flinched at his tone which he immediately regretted. The long trek home, dehydration, and lack of something to eat was weighing on him.

"I'm Belle French, your wife's cousin. I've been living here the past three months because my village was ransacked by ogres," she supplied, wetting her lips nervously.

"Aye...Well where is Milah?" he inquired, searching her gaze for answers.

"I'm afraid she's gone. It was a rather heartless thing for her to do, but she told me that she couldn't raise a coward's son. She boarded a passing sailor's ship this morning. She wouldn't even hold him after he was born. She passed him right off to me and told me I could do as I pleased with him, including feeding him to the ogres if it suited me. I told her that I couldn't abandon an innocent babe. I've been feeding him boiled goat's milk and staying up with him. I know this isn't what you hoped to return home to, but I'll stay and help out if you'll let me," she explained, swallowing hard at her admittance.

He sat back in the chair, the sting of Milah's betrayal far more painful than his torn ligament. She'd heard of his cowardice after all. He could handle her placing the blame on him, but not on an innocent babe who had nothing to do with his personal affairs.

"Thank you for protecting him," he said softly, averting his gaze to the hearth where the flames licked at the pot.

"You're welcome, Would you like to hold your son?" she stammered, holding the swaddled babe out to him precariously.

"Yes, I would like that very much," he expressed, as tears leaked from his eyes in awe at the child. She placed the squirming infant in his arms, and his heart swelled with more love than he believed it capable of for the boy with twin sable eyes. Belle smiled softly at their display of affection, turning her attention to the pot above the roaring hearth. She stirred the stew with a wooden ladle, placing a bit to her lips to sample. The stew was done, so she grabbed two bowls and filled them to the brim. She knew Rumpelstiltskin was famished from his journey. Belle tried not to be judgmental of his rash decision to abandon the battlefront. Milah had cursed him to the bowels of hell for his decision, but she wouldn't. He seemed like he would be a doting father and a good influence on his son from the looks of adoration which shined in his eyes.

"Rumpelstiltskin, I prepared some vegetable stew if you're hungry. If you'd like, I can show you how to boil the goat's milk yourself later," she offered, clasping her hands behind her back demurely.

"I would like that very much, Belle," he returned, causing her heart to flutter from the way he said her name. She'd had a fiance back in Durand, but he'd went off to the wars, never to return. No one returned from the battlefront alive and if they did, they were so mangled by the ogres, they wished death would take them. He handed her the infant who'd fallen asleep. She placed him in the makeshift crib by the pallet she slept on at night. She would have to make another for Rumpelstiltskin, she quietly reminded herself. He attempted to stand up from the chair but winced in pain as soon as his injured leg made contact with the floor.

"Let me help you," Belle remarked, rushing to his side. She grabbed his arm and placed it around her shoulders. He grit his teeth as she placed the majority of his weight on her lithe frame, guiding him to the table.

"Thank you," he said gratefully as she placed a piping hot bowl of stew in front of him. She filled a carved wooden cup with water and handed it to him. She joined him on the opposite side of the table, smoothing out her skirts. She placed her spoon in the broth, bringing it to her lips, blowing on it before she placed it in her mouth. He attempted to eat slowly, though he longed to tip the bowl up and pour it into his mouth. He stared at his now empty bowl, his stomach growling for more.

"Would you like another bowl?" she asked him kindly, and he wondered if she did it out of pity or if it was truly genuine.

"Yes, please," he nodded. She took the bowl and walked back to the pot which hung above the hearth, refilling it to the brim.

"Here you go," she smiled, placing the bowl back in front of him. After three more bowls of stew and five cups of water, he felt more sated than he had in days. Darkness had quickly descended upon the village, and he found himself full of queries which he didn't know how to ask. His heart still stung with heartbreak from his wife's abandonment, but he knew he couldn't allow it to linger. He had to think about the well being of his son and how it would be best to raise him. He would have to get back to spinning and bringing in a steady income to the household, but what of this Belle? Surely, she would be on her way within a few days, a month at most. Hopefully, she would show him the best way to care for his son before they parted ways. He observed as she made him a comfortable wool pallet on the floor.

"I have a few herbal salves in the cabinet if you would like for me to examine your leg. Perhaps I could even create a splint for you to aid in the healing process," she told him, filling him with disbelief.

"Surely you have better things to do than to nurse a cripple. You're a young woman, Belle. There's certainly a whole world out there for you to explore," he admonished, flourishing his hand in the air for the full effect.

"Which lands exactly? The entire realm has been ransacked by ogres, and I have no family to return home to. My cousin wasn't very agreeable, but she provided me with sanctuary after I'd lost everything. I worked as the town healer back in Durand, but the ogres destroyed my village. The only reason I escaped was because I was in the mountain valley collecting herbs when they attacked. I ran nine miles here on foot and asked if anyone knew which residence was my cousins. We'd only spoken a few times during our lives, but she told me I could stay as long as I promised to help her out with the baby. She changed her tune once word reached the village of your cowardice. It isn't any of my business, but why did you run?" she inquired with her piercing azure irises.

He sighed, running his fingers through his hair timorously. "A seer told me that I was to be a father, but I would die in battle and never see him grow up. I couldn't leave my son fatherless, so I took a sledgehammer and smashed my foot so that they wouldn't make me fight. The whole world can spit on me and curse my name, but I would do it all over again for him," he declared, pointing his finger to the snoozing babe in the crib.

Deep within her heart, she longed to reach out to the spinner and comfort him, but she refrained, unwilling to overstep her bounds. "I have no reason to judge you, for your reasons are your own, Rumpelstiltskin. Later tonight, I'll show you how to properly feed your son," she told him, settling down under her duvet.

"I would like that very much," he returned, slipping beneath the sheepskin blankets. Sleep overtook him instantly, and for a little while, he was able to forget his woes.

A/AN: This is going to be a verse fic, so please leave prompts!


	2. Chapter 2

The Woes of War: Part Two

A/AN: Thank you Leni for your prompt! She prompted sleeping arrangements.

Rumpelstiltskin awoke sometime during the middle of the night to the sound of soft humming. He wiped the sleep from his eyes and turned over on his pallet to find Belle with his son in her arms. She'd gotten up sometime in the night to change into a patched wool gown. Her chestnut tresses fell in silken waves down her backside. He felt his breath hitch in his throat as he gazed upon her. He shouldn't have stared at her so blatantly, but she was gorgeous. She must have felt his gaze upon her because she quickly turned, a soft smile playing upon her lips.

"Would you like to hold him?" she encouraged, presenting the squirming infant to the spinner. He pushed himself up into a sitting position, precariously taking the babe in his arms.

"You make it look so natural," he commented as he propped the babe's head up with his left arm.

"I had four brothers and sisters to care for when I was younger," she revealed. He caught her gaze momentarily, noticing a flicker of melancholy flash across her blue irises.

"I bet they loved you very much," he voiced, and she half smiled at his sentiment, brushing stray curls from her eyes.

"Well, how about we make this wee lad a bottle? I have some boiled goat's milk left over from earlier that I can warm up a bit," she supplied, rising to her feet to stoke the fire. The warm ethereal glow from the hearth made her cheeks appear rosy, and he felt heat pool in his belly as it illuminated her soft curves concealed beneath her shift. He tore his eyes away, averting his gaze back to the infant which was still unnamed.

Belle placed the milk in a glass bottle the village midwife had graciously parted with. On top of the oblong shaped bottle was a rubber nipple. "May I ask what that is?" Rumpelstiltskin inquired, snarling his nose at the foreign object.

"It's a bottle that people use for babies who are unable to nurse. There's been a shortage of wet nurses around since the war began. Not many women are having children these days because they're afraid of their offspring being sent off to battle. The wet nurses who are around are charging a hefty price for their services," she explained as she warmed the bottle over the fire momentarily. She squirted a bit of the liquid on her arm to make sure it wasn't too hot and handed it to the spinner.

"What am I supposed to do with it?" he inquired, gazing at her questionably.

"Here, let me show you," she commanded, setting the bottle aside and reaching for the babe. He reluctantly handed her the child, and she sat down on his pallet beside him. She curled her legs underneath herself, and he placed his hands in his lap to steady his nerves from the thrill of her being so close to him.

"You'll want to keep his head propped up like this while you feed him," she demonstrated, holding the child's head up with her right arm. She placed the nipple to his lips, and he latched onto it immediately. Soft suckling sounds could be heard throughout the hovel as he nursed contently. Rumpelstiltskin gazed at the maternal display in awe and allowed himself to imagine for a moment that Belle was his wife, and he'd returned home from war a hero instead of a coward.

"Here, give it a try yourself," she remarked, placing the babe in his arms. He attempted to imitate her instructions, his heart swelling with pride when his boy grabbed onto his thumb with his tiny hand.

"See, you'll get it eventually. Most of it comes by instinct. You're his papa, and you'll begin to develop a sense about him that others won't. I trust you'll both fair just fine," she told him.

"Thank you, Belle," he sighed contently, leaning down to brush a soft kiss against his forehead.

"You're welcome, Rumple. I hope it's okay if I call you, Rumple?" she asked him politely, averting her gaze demurely.

"You may," he obliged, feeling his heart flutter from her simple request. When the bottle was empty, Belle showed him how to burp the child. He placed the babe on his shoulder and proceeded to pat his back gently. Belle chuckled when a large belch erupted from his mouth. The look of flabbergast on Rumpelstiltskin's face told her he was amazed by it.

"He's too tiny to be making such unsettling noises," he commented, and she chortled lightly at him in amusement. When the child caught sight of her, he began to whimper.

"Did I do something wrong!?" he questioned her in a panicky voice.

"No, I think he just wants me to hold him," she said cautiously. She expected him to become irritated, but he simply passed the infant off to her. Belle was the first person he'd latched onto since his birth and it was expected he would prefer her. The child stared at the woman, his childlike gaze full of wonder.

"You know, I'm rather tired of calling him baby and sweetling. Have you thought of a name for your son, Rumple?" she inquired, casting the spinner a curious glance.

"The only thing that mattered to me was getting back home to him. I never gave a name much thought because I figured Milah would have already named him. As you might have noticed, my father gave no regards to putting much thought into my name. I want my boy to have a strong name. I want it to be something he can be proud of," he declared, and she could see remorse flicker across his gaze. This sweet man who sat just a few inches from her had been through more pain than she was possibly aware of. A few more moments passed, and the babe was snoozing in her arms.

"I can't bear to move him, and it's become too chilly in here to place him back in the crib," she sighed, laying him across her shoulder.

"Why don't you sleep here? I'll move over to your pallet, " he remarked, attempting to get up until she placed her hand on his shoulder to halt him.

"It isn't good for you to move so much with your injury. We could just share your pallet. There's plenty of room for both of us," she suggested lying back on the sheepskins, her arms wrapped securely around the infant.

"Wouldn't that make things awkward between us?" he inquired, his heartbeat a tattoo against his chest.

"Only if you make them. I'm accustomed to sleeping between a pile of bodies because the nights in Durand can turn bitter cold instantaneously. Sometimes we didn't have enough wood to keep a fire burning all night and had to resort to other measures of keeping warm. I promise not to wander over to your side," Belle vowed with a mischievous gleam in her eye.

"All right," he consented, settling back down beside her. He kept his arms close to his sides out of fear of accidentally brushing against her during the night. No other words were exchanged between them as sleep overtook them once more. Rumpelstiltskin couldn't recount a night he'd slept more fitfully than the one he'd spent beside Belle.

A/AN: Yea these are probably going to be really short. Keep those prompts coming! I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I also have no knowledge of how women fed their babies back in the middle ages if they were unable to nurse, so I apologize if this is historically inaccurate.


	3. Chapter 3

The Woes of War: Part Three

A/AN: Like_My_Red_Cape prompted Baelfire being attached to Belle and not wanting anything to do with Rumple. Grace also prompted Belle teaching Rumple how to change a diaper. I thought I would combine these two prompts.

Two weeks had passed since he'd returned home from the wars. Belle had created a splint for his torn ligament and used her healing salves to soothe the ache. He'd been unable to walk much and spent most of his time with his leg propped up in a chair. Two days after his arrival, he'd developed a high fever and an infection in his leg. Belle had taken care of his son which he'd decided to call Baelfire and aided in nursing him back to health. He was unable to hold his boy because of the sickness, but the fever had subsided a few days later. He felt terrible for placing all of the household responsibilities on Belle, but he'd been unable to do little more than lift his head. She'd scolded him for attempting to do anything and told him it was his job to get well so that he could learn how to properly care for his son. Rumpelstiltskin awoke during the night to find Belle sitting up in bed with his son in her arms. She was rocking him back and forth gently as she fed him from the oblong shaped bottle. His ears perked up as he heard her sing a beautiful cadence to the young boy. It was one he often heard his aunts sing to him when he was a wee lad.

Over in Killaney

Many years ago

My mother sang a song to me

In tones so soft and low

Just a simple, little ditty

In her olden way

And I'd give the world if I could hear that song of hers today.

Too ra loo ra loo ral

too ra loo ra li

too ra loo ra loo ral

Hush, now don't you cry.

He gazed at the young woman in awe, spellbound by the loveliness of her voice. She smiled tiredly at the boy as she continued to sing to him. He felt a pang of guilt shoot through him as he realized how exhausted she must be. Rumpelstiltskin swallowed back the bile in his throat as he formulated the right response. "Belle, you look mighty tired. How about I take over from here? I'm not ill anymore and it would be good if I was able to bond with Bae," he told the maid who cast him a weary glance.

"I think that sounds like a splendid idea, Rumple. Just awaken me if you need any help," she yawned as she handed the small bundle to him. Baelfire gazed up at his papa warily as Belle laid back on the pallet, falling asleep instantaneously. Soft snuffles erupted from her throat, and he prayed she had a restful sleep.

"Hey there Bae," he smiled down at the infant who sucked contently on the bottle. He continued to whisper sweet nothings to his little one until it came time to burp him. He placed the babe on his shoulder and proceeded to pat his back. A soft burp erupted from his lips, and the spinner assumed the boy would nod back off to sleep. He couldn't have been more wrong as the child began to wail loudly, growing restless of his father's company. Rumpelstiltskin knew his boy preferred Belle over anyone because she'd been with him the first month of his life, and she'd become the first person he'd bonded with. He was determined to earn his son's love and affection just as she had. He rocked the child back and forth and hoped his cries would cease, but they only increased. He glanced over at Belle and wondered how she was able to sleep through Bae's squalling. He felt himself becoming frustrated, wondering if his son would ever come to love him. An idea struck him as he remembered the lullaby Belle had sang to him earlier. He racked his brain as he attempted to recount the familiar tune from his childhood. He cleared the mucus from his throat as he began to sing to the child.

Sleep weel, my bairne, sleep,

The lang, lang shadows creep,

The fairies play on the munelicht brae

An' the stars are on the deep.

The auld wife sits her lane

Ayont the cauld hearth-stane,

An' the win' comes doon wi' an eerie croon

To hush my bonny wean.

The bogie msn's awa',

The dancers rise an fa'

An' the howlet's cry frae the bour-tree high

Comes through the mossy shaw.

Sleep weel, my bairne, sleep,

The lang, lang shadows creep,

The fairies play on the munelicht brae

An' the stars are on the deep.

He felt his brogue thicken as he sang to Baelfire who cooed and grabbed his crooked nose with his tiny hand in response. He chuckled softly, placing a wet kiss on the infant's forehead. The boy gave out a silent yawn as he snuggled against his chest. His eyelids fluttered shut as Rumpelstiltskin continued to hum softly to him. He placed the boy on his chest and laid back down beside Belle. Serenity washed over him as he listened to their soft snores. He closed his eyes, believing for a moment the future might be a happy one for him with the two of them at his side.

The next morning he awoke to find Belle sitting up with Baelfire in her arms, "I see last night went well for you. I'd like to teach you another important task," she chortled, grinning snidely at him.

"Ahh, yes. I sung to him just as you did. What would you like to show me?" he inquired, scratching his head in puzzlement, wondering why she was grinning so widely at him. She placed Baelfire down on the pallet and undid the cloth diaper which covered his bottom. He gagged and covered his nose as soon as the pungent smell filled his nostrils.

"What in heavens is that!?" he coughed as he continued to hold his nose tightly.

"That would be shite, Rumple. The thing about babies is when they relieve themselves, we must change them," she smirked, gesturing towards the infant.

"You want me to change him?" he inquired, gazing at her dumbly.

"That I do. I'd like you to share in this unpleasant task with me," she laughed, standing up to retrieve a cloth dipped in warm water.

"Wash his bum, Rumple," she commanded, thrusting the cloth into his weathered hands. He turned to Baelfire who was gnawing contently on his fingers. Rumpelstiltskin sighed as he pulled away the soiled diaper and began to wash away the filth from his bottom. Once he was clean, Belle showed him how to properly pin together a new one.

"What do we do with this?" he inquired, handing her the soiled cloth and diaper.

"We wash them and hang them out to dry, and I expect I'll have to do it several times a day. I sewed a few by hand before he was born, but I could use more," she confessed.

"I really need to get back to spinning. I'll make him some because I'm sure he'll outgrow these soon enough," he suggested.

"That he will," she returned, taking the soiled linens and placing them in a pile.

"I suppose I need to go out to the well and gather some water for washing and cooking. Will you be all right while I'm gone?" she inquired, concern flashing in her blue depths.

"Aye, I'll be just fine," he nodded as he cradled Baelfire in his arms.

"I'll be back shortly then," she returned, grabbing her patched cloak and wrapping it securely around her lithe frame. She picked up the bucket by the door and walked out into the chilly morning air. The patches in her cloak told him that she was long overdue for a new one. His heart beat heavily in his chest as contemplated on making her a new one. He glanced over at the spinning wheel, knowing what his first project would be.

A/AN: Keep those prompts coming guys! I hope you all enjoyed the latest installment! I included the poem Rumple gave to Belle in the show. The lullaby Belle sang is an old Irish one.


	4. Chapter 4

The Woes of War: Part Four

Tomorrow is my birthday, so I decided to update this fic as a present to you all and myself! Enjoy, dearies!

Rumpelstiltskin sat with Baelfire in the rocking chair as he gazed at Belle who was doing the laundry. She was bent over a large washtub, scrubbing their garments against a washboard. He noted how she would sniffle so often and stop and cough into her sleeve. The winters had come roaring in, and this was the worst time of year to fall ill. He had a feeling Belle was coming down with a cold. He grimaced as he stood. He placed the sleeping babe into his crib and grabbed his walking stick to hobble over to the beauty. He leaned against his staff, clearing his throat awkwardly.

"Belle, are you feeling alright?" he asked, his eyes full of concern as she turned around to face him. Her cheeks were flushed and there were dark circles underneath her eyes.

"I'm fine, Rumple. I'm just feeling a wee bit under the weather. That's all. I only have two more shirts to wash, and I'll prepare our supper," she supplied, turning her attention back to the washing. He placed his hand gently on her shoulder. The feeling of his nimble spinner's fingers touching her sent a jolt of desire coursing through her. She swallowed hard, attempting to stifle the erratic beating of her heart from his close proximity.

"Finish up the washing and go lie down. I'll take care of supper," he told her, giving her shoulder a light squeeze.

"But your leg!" she protested, taking her hands out of the water and turning to face him.

"Belle, I'm used to doing loads of chores. I appreciate your help over these last two months, especially with helping to care for my son. It's high time I do my fair share around here. I'll prepare us some fresh bread and potato soup," he returned as he hobbled over to the bag of flour. Belle hung the last shirt up to dry above the roaring hearth, wiping her wet hands on her apron. She was relieved at Rumpelstiltskin's suggestion, because she was internally exhausted and her bones ached.

"Rumple, I'm going to change into my nightclothes. Will you close your eyes, please?" she requested sheepishly.

"Of course," he nodded, turning around to gaze at the bag of flour. Belle pulled her blue muslin dress over her head and hung it up to dry over the hearth with the rest of their clothing. She pulled off her stockings before climbing underneath the duvet in only her shift.

"You may look now," she told him. She laid her head back against the pillows, allowing her eyes to drift open and shut as she observed him kneading the dough.

"Wake me up when suppers ready," she muttered, snuggling further underneath the sheepskin blankets.

"I shall," he answered her, not taking his eyes off of the dough. She closed her eyes, drifting into a deep slumber. Rumpelstiltskin placed the bread in the brick oven to bake, wiping the excess flour on his breeches. He leaned against his walking stick briefly to take the pressure off of his leg as he gazed at Belle underneath the covers. She was snoring softly, and he wasn't sure if he'd be able to keep his promise to her. She'd been working around the clock since she'd first arrived and deserved a decent rest. There were days it seemed like Milah had never been there. Some days it was like Belle had been in the picture all along. He wondered if he'd wed her instead of Milah if she would have scorned him once he returned home from war. Would she have rebuked him for purposefully injuring himself to keep from fighting, or would she have welcomed him home with open arms and helped him pick up the pieces? He pushed his musings to the back of his mind as he began to peel the potatoes. He poured some water in the pot to boil before throwing in the sliced potatoes along with a few onions to flavor it. He sat back down in the rocking chair beside Bae's crib to rest his leg. For the first time in many years, he felt complete and happy with his life. The only problem was his growing desire for Belle. There were times during the night when she'd drift over to his side, and he'd feel her bare legs tangled around his. He would gently push her away to keep them from falling into an awkward situation. He was certain her feelings for him were strictly platonic. She was only here to help him with Baelfire. He knew as soon as the wars ended that she would probably journey where there were more opportunities. Men would return home from war, and she'd find herself a suitable husband, one who could care for her in ways he wasn't able to.

The smell of fresh bread assaulted his nostrils. He picked up his walking stick and prodded over to the table to retrieve it from the oven. He set the steaming tray on the table to cool and stalked to the pot of boiling soup. He placed a ladle in the pot and brought the steaming brew to his lips. He blew on it slightly before sampling it. He looked over at Belle who was still sound asleep. He sighed to himself, knowing he wouldn't be able to wake her. He bent down, brushing a kiss against her temple daringly.

"Sleep well, sweetheart. I promise to save you some for when you wake up," he whispered in her ear. She stirred slightly in her sleep but didn't awaken. He gazed at his spinning wheel and remembered the cloak he'd vowed to himself to make her. He filled his belly before sitting down at the wheel to begin his work. Perhaps if he stayed up a few nights, he could present her with the cloak by the end of the week. He picked up a batch of freshly dried wool and began to feed it through the wheel. He hummed to himself as he imagined how lovely she would look in it.

A/AN: Please continue to send me prompts! Thanks for all of the kudos and reviews! Rumple gives Belle the cloak in the next chapter.


	5. Chapter 5

The Woes of War: Part Five

A/AN: Wow! Thank you all so much for all of the kudos and lovely comments!

Belle gazed at Rumpelstiltskin slumped over in the rocking chair. He'd fallen asleep again. She couldn't figure out what was going on with him. They both went to bed at exactly the same time each night, and he was right beside her nearly every morning before she awoke. Baelfire was beginning to sleep through the night, so she knew that couldn't be the reason for his drowsiness. Tonight she swore to herself that she'd keep a watchful eye on him. They both readied themselves for bed as the day drew to a close. Baelfire had been fed and changed and was already sound asleep. She tucked herself under the sheepskin blankets as she observed him blow out the single candle illuminating the hovel. Her heart thud heavily in her chest as he settled down beside her. She had her back turned to him, but she refused to close her eyes. An hour ticked by, and she felt her eyelids become leaden with sleep. She nearly drifted off until she heard him stir beside her. He clamored out of bed, reaching for his walking stick. She could hear him shuffling across the room as he relighted the candle which he'd extinguished earlier.

She listened intently as he sat down in the rocker. She turned over to see him holding a piece of verdant hued fabric. His walking stick sat beside him, and she noticed his tongue was sticking out in focused concentration. He was sewing. She wondered if this was the reason he hadn't been sleeping well as of late. She decided to humor him and allow him to work on his project without interference. She closed her eyes, snuggling back under the duvet. She awoke to hear the rooster crowing outside the next morning. She rubbed her matted eyes against her sleeve as she drunk in her surroundings. The first rays of dawn leaked through the scratched window pane. Belle gazed down beside her to see Rumpelstiltskin sound asleep. She smiled fondly at him, bending down to brush a soft kiss against his cheek. She stifled back a giggle as his stubble tickled her nose. She blinked, noticing the fabric neatly folded over the rocker. Belle slid out of bed, sauntering towards the chair. She pinched the cloth carefully between her fingertips to examine it. She blinked back tears when she realized it was a wool cloak with cornflower blue flowers intricately stitched into the rich verdant fabric. The intricate stitch work would have taken him weeks to finish. She wrapped the cloak securely around her shoulders, finding it fit her immaculately. He'd made it for her. No words could describe the surge of emotion she felt coursing through her.

Belle turned back to the pallet they shared. He was still sound asleep. Her heart thrummed erratically in her chest as she traipsed back towards the bed. She slipped back underneath the covers, wrapping her arms securely around his torso. He relaxed in her embrace, sighing contently in his sleep as she bid him closer.

"Belle?" he yawned sleepily as he awakened.

"You, sweet, sweet man. Your wife didn't deserve your kind heart. I found the cloak this morning, and it's so lovely," she praised him as she buried her nose in his silvery locks. Rumpelstiltskin felt his body heat increase from her close proximity. Was she showing him affection?

"I'm glad you liked it, Belle. I uh, thought you could use one since yours was full of holes," he remarked sheepishly.

Belle took a deep breath as she thought of the best way to profess her feelings to him."Rumple, there's something I need-". They jolted out of bed as Baelfire began to scream, severing her confession. Rumpelstiltskin grabbed his walking stick as Belle made her way over to the crib. She hoisted the infant into her arms. Panic permeated her features as she touched his forehead.

"Rumple! He has a fever! He's burning up!" she cried, placing the infant over her shoulder.

"What should I do!?" he queried, his eyes filling with trepidation.

"Go outside and dip this cloth into the snow. We need to cool him down," Belle instructed as she handed him a rag. Rumpelstiltskin opened the back door to be greeted by a blast of cold air. He clamped his mouth shut to keep his teeth from chattering as he dipped the cloth into the snow. He shut the door, wringing out the cloth.

"Here!" Rumpelstiltskin exclaimed as he handed Belle the damp rag. She had Baelfire stretched out on their pallet. She gingerly wiped his face with the rag.

"I'm going to need more snow, Rumple. Take the bucket by the fireplace outside and fill it up. We'll place it in the pot over the hearth so it can melt," she commanded.

"Will Bae be alright? Is he going to live!?" he inquired fretfully. She turned to face him and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"I grew up with four younger brothers and sisters. This isn't the first round of sickness I've dealt with, and I'm sure it won't be the last. Bae will be just fine," she reassured him. He nodded, turning to grab the bucket by the hearth. He filled it with snow like she'd asked, and they spent the rest of the day caring for the babe. By nightfall, his fever had began to dissipate. They both stood by his crib where he slept soundly.

"Thank you for taking such good care of him," he sighed, feeling the muscles in his neck relax. He gazed fondly at his son who slept serenely.

"I couldn't have done it without you, Rumple. You're an exemplary father," she complimented him as their gazes locked.

"Th-Th-ank you!" he stammered, unaccustomed to receiving such praise. Nearly everyone in his life had only ever viewed him as a failure. His father had abandoned him at a young age, and he'd never known his mother.

"I'm glad I get to be apart of your stories. I know that I'm technically not his mother, but I've felt like he was mine from the moment I looked into his sable eyes," she confessed, biting her lip worriedly at how he might react to her statement.

"You've been his mother since before I stepped through that door. You could have cast him aside as Milah wished, but you saved him. If that isn't a mother's love then I don't know what is," he declared boldly as shadows from the candlelight flickered across her face. She closed the distance between them, cupping his face in her hands as their lips met. She kissed him without reserve as he tangled his spinner's fingers through her thick locks of chestnut hair. He broke the kiss momentarily, his eyes filling with uncertainty.

"Belle, you can't possibly want this, want me. You're young and beautiful, and I'm just a-"

"Strong, kind, generous, loving, handsome, man who I've been in love with for quite sometime now," she professed, catching him off guard.

"You-you, love me?" he stammered full of disbelief.

"Yes, Rumpelstiltskin, I do love you," she informed him before enveloping him in another a deep kiss. He closed his eyes as he allowed her to ravish him with her mouth, hoping he never woke up from this beautiful dream, for this certainly couldn't be reality.

A/AN: Okay, guys! I'm short on prompts and need some for this to continue!


	6. Chapter 6

The Woes of War: Chapter Six

A/AN: Likes_My_Red_Cape prompted French kissing and proposals! Enjoy, dearies!

Rumpelstiltskin continued to kiss Belle fervently, threading his spinner's fingers through her thick chestnut tresses. She placed her hands on the side of his face, caressing his jawline gently with the pads of her thumbs. He broke off the kiss momentarily as a thought entered his mind. Belle gazed at him in puzzlement, wondering if she'd done something wrong.

"Did I do something wrong, Rumple?" she inquired as insecurity flickered across her gaze.

"No, no, you're perfect! It's just that I was wondering if you wanted to try a different type of kiss?" he reassured her, his cheeks flushing deeply from the suggestion.

"Perhaps. What sort of kiss did you have in mind?" she inquired, smiling slyly at him.

"Um, I was thinking of a French kiss. Have you ever had one of those before?" he asked, averting his gaze demurely.

"No, my betrothed and I only shared chaste pecks on the lips and cheeks. I'm very much aware of what a French kiss entails, and I would love to try it with you, Rumpelstiltskin," she remarked, etching closer to him. He seized her wrists, brushing his fingers over them anxiously, full of anticipation.

"Relax, Rumple," she commanded him in her velvety voice. He nodded as he wet his lips nervously. Belle closed her eyes, initiating the kiss with the soft brush of her lips against his. He wrapped his arms around her waist tentatively as she looped hers around his slender neck. He daringly pressed his tongue into her mouth, and he gasped as she granted him entrance. He pinned her against the wall as he carefully explored her mouth with his tongue. She tasted of peppermint tea and the honey they'd spread over their biscuits earlier. Their tongues clashed together in a synchronized motion. She carded her fingers through his hair needfully as he pressed every curve of his body against her. She felt immaculate pressed so closely to him, and he couldn't help but imagine how sensational it would feel if they were both skin to skin. The blood rushed straight to his groin as he continued to fantasize about making love to her. Belle pushed him away in surprise as she felt his hard member pressing against her abdomen.

When he realized what was happening, he reached down to cover himself shamefully. Milah would have reprimanded him and refused to let him touch her. She barely did, opting to bring herself to an orgasm most of the time. When they did copulate, it was like making love to a statue.

"I'm so sorry, Belle! Please-"

"You have nothing to be ashamed of Rumple. The reaction from your body was natural, and I for one am glad you desire me. I didn't push you away because I was repulsed. I was just surprised," she assured him with a smug smile playing upon her lips. She cupped his face in her hands, drawing him back to her lips.

"Belle, I want to do right by you. Allow me to court you properly. Being shackled to the village coward isn't going to be an easy feat. I really want you to ponder over this matter before you say yes. I could understand if you said no and wanted no part of it," he confessed, swallowing back the ball of lead which had formed in his throat.

"I accept your proposal, Rumple. I have no reason to say no. I don't need the village's approval nor that of anyone else. No one decides my fate but me, and my heart has already chosen you!" she declared boldly. Tears gathered in his eyes as he brought her right hand to his lips, brushing a gentle kiss over her knuckles.

"I have something for you, Belle. I made it while I was working on your cloak if an occasion such as this one were to ever arise," he remarked timidly as he sauntered over to his spinning wheel. Her heart thrummed heavily against her chest in anticipation He sauntered back over to her, his fist clenched tightly around the object.

"Belle, would you please accept this as a token of my dedication and love for you?" he inquired, opening his hand and presenting her with a woven bracelet which was dyed a light blue hue.

"Oh, Rumple! It's beautiful!" she gasped, clasping her hands over her mouth as tears filled her eyes.

"I hope you'll wear it. I'm sorry it isn't a ring like you properly deserve. I'll work extra hard to provide you with everything you desire!" he exclaimed. She placed a nimble finger to his lips.

"Everything I desire is in this very room. You and Bae are all I need," she affirmed, placing a gentle kiss against his cheek.

"May I?" he inquired, holding out the bracelet.

"You may," she consented, holding out her arm. He gently slipped the bracelet onto her slender wrist. She admired it under the candlelight, pure euphoria dancing in her eyes. He wasn't sure how he'd managed to find someone like Belle, but he would cherish her for the rest of his days.


	7. Chapter 7

The Woes of War: Part Seven

A/AN: I'm so thankful for all of the love and input you guys have given this fic! I promise that I'll be getting to the other prompts shortly, but I had this pop in my head, so I had to write it.

The winters in the village were harsh and the cold bitter. Rumpelstiltskin found that his twisted ligament throbbed immensely on most days, leaving him unable to walk. Since their courtship had begun, he thought it would be best if they slept on separate pallets until they were wed. Belle slept on the left side of Bae's crib, and he slept on the right. They planned to marry when the snow thawed which wouldn't happen for weeks, possibly even months from now. He didn't want to compromise her virtue, because he knew he wouldn't be able to keep his hands off of her if she were that close to him. Pale moonlight filtered through the cracked window pane as he gazed over at her snoozing form. He pushed himself up on his forearms when he heard Baelfire begin to whimper. He reached for his walking stick as he attempted to stand, his leg giving out from under him as he fell backwards onto the pallet. He cursed under his breath as his staff clattered across the floor. Belle rose from her slumber at the sound of commotion. She gazed over at Rumpelstiltskin spread haphazardly on his pallet. She jumped up, rushing to his side.

"Rumple! What happened!?" she demanded, concern flashing in her blue depths.

"I was going to get up and check on Bae, but I lost my balance," he sighed, averting his gaze timidly.

"Rumple, are you in pain?" the beauty inquired, cupping his face in her hands gingerly.

"Just a wee bit, but I'll be alright," he fibbed, but she saw right through him.

"Rumple, I'd wish you'd tell me if you were in pain. Your injury wasn't simply a scrape. You'll live with the effects of it for the rest of your life. Let me ease your pain," she pleaded, reaching out to touch his strained ligament carefully.

"Don't trouble yourself. It isn't a big deal, really," he excused. She shook her head as a deep sigh erupted from her lips.

"I'm going to go check on Bae and then I'm going to rub some herbal salve on your leg," she remarked, standing up to go tend to the fussing babe. She placed him on her shoulder, humming a soothing cadence until he fell back asleep.

"You're so good with him," Rumpelstiltskin commented as he watched her deposit Bae back into his crib.

"You are too," she beamed, opening the cupboards to retrieve the salve she was looking for. She sat down in front of him on the pallet and unscrewed the jar full of dark green goop. Rumpelstiltskin pinched his nose in disgust as the unpleasant aroma of the ointment infiltrated his nostrils.

"And what would that be?" he coughed as she straightened out his leg, placing it across her lap.

"It's a salve made from a flower which only grows in the mountain valley back in Durand. My mother was a skilled healer and taught me how to concoct it," she replied as she placed a glob of the cream onto his leg, massaging his joints thoroughly. He sighed blissfully as he laid back against the sheepskin blankets. He ignored the stench, focusing solely on her supple hands and how it ebbed away his pain. As he began to relax himself, a query entered his mind.

"Belle, what was it like living in Durand?" he inquired as she continued to massage his twisted ligament with her nimble digits.

Belle respired deeply, halting her ministrations momentarily as she mulled over his question. "Life was hard, and we were very poor. There were seven of us, counting my mother and father. We lived in a hovel slightly bigger than this one. My father worked in the fields, and my mother was a healer. As the wars raged on, mother's services were coveted more and more. My two brothers, Jasper and Collins helped father. My three sisters, Estella, Linny, Charlotte and I assisted mother with the injured soldiers who came in droves. We spent more of our time at the infirmary camps than at home. She sent me to the mountain valley to gather herbs the day they perished. The only reason I escaped was because I heard the cries of my village being slaughtered. I should have turned back and searched for survivors, but I was so afraid," she confessed as tears streamed down her ashen cheeks.

"Belle, I'm so sorry!" he cried, pushing himself up to gather her into his arms.

"Rumple, you're hurt! I don't want you to further injure yourself!" she hiccuped, rubbing her sleeve against her damp eyelids.

"You're hurting as well, Belle," he remarked, brushing her tears away with the pads of his thumbs gently.

"I love you, Rumpelstiltskin," she muttered, cradling his face in her palms, pressing her lips against his, and kissing him fervently. His heart fluttered from her amorous declaration. He rubbed soothing circles along her backside as he kissed her back desperately. Milah had never kissed him as passionately as Belle did. She poured her heart and soul into each loving gesture she imparted. She broke the kiss, laying her head on his shoulder, sighing contently.

"Maybe they're still alive. They could have escaped to another village just as you did," he remarked as they lied back on the pallet together.

"The ogres destroy everything in their path. The chances of their survival are minimal. I don't wish to get my hopes up about something which isn't probable. You and Baelfire are my life now. My heart will heal with time," she yawned, laying her head on his chest. He kept his arms firmly wrapped around her waist, wondering if there was a chance they could still be out there. He would do whatever it took to reunite them, if it were possible.


	8. Chapter 8

The Woes of War: Part Eight

A/AN: This contains smut thus the new rating. I'm not the greatest smut writer in the world so bear with me.

As soon as the snow thawed, Rumpelstiltskin was able to walk comfortably with his staff. He and Belle headed to the chapel to be married. Baelfire squirmed in Belle's arms as they recited the vows countless others had for centuries. He placed a chaste kiss upon her lips, leaving her burning for more. She cradled Baelfire in the crook of her arm as they journeyed back to the hovel. Rumpelstiltskin sighed happily to himself. Belle was officially his wife and things couldn't be better. He daydreamed about what the future held for them.

He was pulled from his blissful thoughts when he felt a sharp rock hit the side of his head. He winced in pain; Belle screamed in horror as the rocks continued to pelt him, causing him to collapse. Baelfire wailed at the commotion going on around them. He shielded his eyes from the attack and bravely opened them to find two teenage boys laughing and jeering at him.

"Get away from him!" she bellowed, but the teens didn't give her a second glance as they continued their assault on the poor spinner.

"Run on home Spindleshanks since that's what you're good at!" one of the youth guffawed, pointing a grimy finger at him. Rumpelstiltskin grabbed his walking stick, managing to stand to his feet. He grabbed Belle's hand and darted behind one of the other hovels as he observed the other pick up a large stone which would undoubtedly knock him unconscious. He clasped her hand tightly in his own as they sprinted back to the hovel, his bad leg throbbing with each step. When he made it home, he was winded and collapsed in a heap by the door.

"Let me help you, Rumple," Belle said softly, a look of sympathy reflecting back at him in her azure depths. He felt his stomach lurch at the way she gazed at him. He didn't desire her pity. He was supposed to be strong and able to protect her. Those youth had proved just the opposite. He'd been unable to defend his bride and Baelfire from their assault. She held out her hand to him, and he took it, standing to his feet. Belle pushed open the door. He leaned on his staff as she passed by him. He followed suit, gazing at her as she soothed Baelfire with the gentle cadence of her voice. He sat down on the pallet, placing his head in his hands shamefully.

Belle laid the infant in his crib and grabbed a rag she'd hung up to dry above the hearth. She dipped it in a pail of cool water left by the door and wrung it out. She prodded softly towards him, taking a seat beside him on the pallet.

"Let me look at your face, Rumple," she requested gently. He wordlessly lifted his hands away from his eyes. Belle placed her hand on the side of her husband's face gingerly as she cleaned a large bloody scratch marring his forehead. His left eye was swollen slightly from the impact of the rock.

"All better now," she said, giving him a radiant smile.

"How is it better? You're shackled to a man who might as well have coward tattooed across his forehead. I cannot fathom why anyone, especially you would want this," he scoffed, averting his gaze to the hearth.

"Because you're kind, loving, honest, gentle, and the most astounding man I've ever met. I told you I don't care what others may think of you, of us. Your approval is all I need, Rumpelstiltskin. Milah may have deserted you, but she was a bloody fool. I may be selfish for saying this, but I'm glad she did. You deserve someone who will love you wholly for who you truly are, and I aim to do that husband," she professed. He gazed at her in awe as she came to stand by the hearth in her blue muslin dress. Pure unadulterated love shone in her eyes for him. She held out her hands to him.

"Come here husband," she crooned. He grabbed her hands, and she pulled him to his feet. His heart thrummed heavily in his chest as she drew him into her sweet embrace.

"Kiss me husband," she commanded, carding her fingers through his unruly locks. He pressed his lips against hers in a searing kiss. He ran his hands over her supple curves, and he groaned as he elicited a heady moan from her throat.

"Take me to bed, Rumple," she pleaded with an urgency in her voice. He gazed into her blue irises rimmed with lust, need, and desire. His groin twitched in response as he led her back to the pallet. She respired heavily in anticipation as he laid her back gingerly on the duvet. He undid the ties on her bodice, his hands quaking as he opened it. Her bosom spilled over the fabric, revealing her small breasts. He gazed down at her flushed cheeks as he ran his spinner's fingers over her soft mounds.

"Rumple!" she mewled as he caressed them gently. "Don't stop!" she panted, sending him over the edge. She gazed at him quizzically as he pulled his hands away from her breasts.

"Sit up so that I may properly undress you, wife," he commanded in a wavering voice. She sat up, and he pulled the dress over her head, leaving her utterly bare to him.

"Where are your linens and your shift?" he asked in disbelief.

"I didn't think I needed them since I was going to be taking them off anyway," she confessed. Her cheeks were ruddy, and her flesh was a pleasant peach hue. He wanted to touch every inch of her skin and ravish her with his tongue.

"You're so beautiful!" he gasped, laying back down beside her. He reached out to touch her, but she halted his advances with her hand.

"If I'm to be undressed then you should be too," she told him. He hastily pulled his shirt over his head and ripped off his trousers. Her eyes mirrored twin saucers as she gazed at his hardened length. She'd been told her entire life that the first time would be painful, and she wondered how he would ever fit that thing inside of her.

"What is it Belle?" he inquired as he caught her gazing downward at his anatomy.

"It's just that you're very well endowed husband, and I was wondering if it would fit," she confessed as her cheeks reddened further.

"Your body will adapt to my size, Belle, and I promise to go slow and make it feel good for you," he vowed. She laid back on the duvet as he towered over her. His erection brushed against her wet folds, and she jerked forward at the euphoric sensations erupting through her. He seized her wrists and pressed them down beside her.

"You're all mine, forever. No one is ever going to take you from me," he growled possessively, peppering her collarbone with kisses. She felt herself becoming more aroused at his declaration. She raked her nails down his back as he continued to do sensational things to her body. Heat pooled in her belly as his nimble fingers danced over her skin.

"Please go slow, husband," she said as he settled himself within the cradle of her hips. She wrapped her legs securely around his waist.

"I promise not to hurt you," he vowed, pressing a tender kiss against her shoulder blade. He sheathed himself securely inside of her warmth, and they moved together slowly. Her body felt like it would split in half, but it eventually adjusted to his size, causing her to feel pleasure. She could feel the passion he felt for her spilling over with each gentle touch and loving kiss he imparted as he rocked gently against her hips.

"Rumple!" she gasped as her wetness increased, drenching him with her essence. As he rolled his hips, she covered her mouth to muffle her screams, praying she didn't wake their son. He grasped her left breast in his hand as he continued to thrust in and out of her slowly. He captured her cries with his lips, until he felt her slick walls clench around him, milking him of his release. A light sheen of sweat coated her brow as he unsheathed himself from her delicious warmth. He pulled her close to his body, nuzzling her neck affectionately.

"I love you so much, Belle," he told her, kissing her nape and all the way up to her jawline.

"I love you too, Rumple, more than anything in the world," she sighed snuggling closer to him, fully sated from their bout of lovemaking.

"Sleep well, my darling," he bid her goodnight, blowing out the candle on the bedside table. Sleep overtook them and being this close to Belle made all of his insecurities melt away. He'd done nothing to deserve her, but he thanked his lucky stars she'd chosen him. He'd never be able to understand why she'd chosen an ugly cripple over a more acceptable suitor. If only he could see himself through her eyes.


	9. Chapter 9

The Woes of War: Part Nine

A/AN: Dragonhostile17 prompted morning after fluff. I thought it would be fitting for the night after their consummation.

Rumpelstiltskin sighed contentedly at the sensation of her warm body settled next to his. Soft snuffles erupted from her throat as he snaked his arms around her torso. Her flesh was supple, and she felt so unbelievably perfect in his arms. He pressed a soft kiss against her shoulder blade, rousing her from her slumber.

"Rumple?" she muttered drowsily, turning over in his arms.

"Good morning, sweetheart," he rumbled in his deep brogue. She tangled her bare legs around his, snuggling closer to him. He groaned at the feeling of every inch of her firmly pressed against him.

"It's still unfathomable how lucky I am to have secured you as my wife," he chuckled, burying his face in her nape. She sighed softly, her pleasure mounting as he feathered her collarbone with kisses. His right hand traced obsolete patterns along the underside of her breasts.

"I'm blessed to call you mine, husband," she said, reclining back against the sheepskin blankets as he thoroughly explored her supple hills and valleys. Her chestnut tresses splayed behind her in a wild disarray as he carded his fingers through it. He kissed her amorously, pouring every ounce of emotion he held for her into the kiss. She, in turn, dusted her fingers along his backside, eliciting a heady moan from his throat. Belle broke the kiss momentarily to gaze deeply into his sable eyes.

"Have I done something wrong, Belle?" he inquired insecurely. She reached up to cup his face in her hands, shaking her head in response.

"You have done nothing wrong, my dearest. I simply have a question for you," she told him, patting the spot beside her. He settled back down beneath the duvet adjacent from her.

Belle swallowed the ball of nerves in the back of her throat before asking the burning question which parched the back of her throat. The way he touched her made it seem like he was starved for affection. "Rumple, you've been such an attentive lover to me, and I can't help but wonder, if Milah ever took the time to pleasure you? If not, were there others before her? I don't mean to pry. I simply want to know," she clarified.

He averted his gaze to the dying flame which gradually extinguished itself within the hearth. "There were no others before her. She was the only one. Her father was a drunk, and she married the first available man who would wed her. We spent the night together after indulging in too much ale at the tavern. She claimed I had soiled her reputation, so I did the honorable thing and married her. After that night, she resented me and told me she could have found a better man. I never pushed myself upon her and always allowed her to initiate everything. I can count on one hand the amount of times we were intimate, and it's a miracle Baelfire was ever conceived. She blatantly stated that she never wanted any children with me. The last time we laid together was the day before I went off to war. She got off somehow on knowing I would be a war hero, I suppose," he remarked bitterly.

Belle grabbed his hand, gripping it securely in her own. "She may have taken you for granted, but I never will. You made me feel so loved and cherished … unlike anyone has before. I'd like us to make love again and as often as possible," she admitted, blushing fiercely.

"You mean, you want to do it again?" he asked, full of disbelief.

"Of course! I want to be close to you, Rumple. My mother always told me it would be painful and that I must suffer through it because it was my wifely duty. I never imagined I would enjoy it, but you showed me otherwise. You were magnificent last night," she remarked, bidding him closer. He could feel himself growing harder from her declaration.

"We can right now, if you'd like," he replied, full of anticipation. She held her arms open to embrace him fully. He buried his nose in the valley of her breasts, intoxicated with her sweet scent, nuzzling them affectionately as she stroked his hair lovingly.

"I love you, Rumpelstiltskin," she said as she opened herself wide for him, both body and heart. Her delicate folds glistened with moisture, and tears misted behind his eyes for her obvious desire for him. He adjusted his position, sinking gently into her slick heat. He moved within her slowly, relishing the feeling of being so closely connected to her.

"Oh, Rumple," she sighed pleasurably, her eyes rimmed with lust. He bit back a curse as she rolled her hips. No one had ever looked at him with such desire. Belle truly wanted him as only a lover would. She'd expressed her desire to engage in marital activities multiple times.

"If you keep that up, sweetheart, I'm not going to last," he hissed in her ear, increasing his pace. Her walls suddenly clenched around him, milking him of his white hot release. Stars appeared behind his eyes as he leaned his forehead against hers. She pushed graying locks from his eyes as his breathing steadied, and rubbed soothing circles along his backside until he decided to roll off of her.

"You were magnificent, Rumple," she sighed, fully sated from their second round of lovemaking.

"No one has ever given me such a compliment before," he added, placing his hand over his chest to steady his erratic heartbeat.

"It's because she didn't truly see you for the wonderful man you truly are. I love you, Rumple, so much," she yawned, cuddling against his lithe frame.

"And I love you too, my darling Belle," he returned, closing his eyes and falling back asleep. In a few more hours, Baelfire would awaken, and they would be forced to start their day. He decided for now he'd live in the moment and cherish every second of simply holding her close. Moments didn't last forever, because he knew in the blink of an eye, she could be gone. Rumpelstiltskin had never had a constant in his life and despite her vows of undying love and devotion, he knew she would eventually abandon him too. Everyone always did.

A/AN: Poor Rumple and his insecurities! It's going to take Belle a long time to break through to him, I'm afraid.


	10. Chapter 10

The Woes of War: Part Ten

A/AN: It's been awhile since I've updated because I've been so busy with original work, but I decided to fill a prompt for you all. Enjoy, dearies!

It had been two months since they'd wed, and Baelfire was growing like a weed. He could already turn over by himself and was beginning to eat soft foods. Belle made a special effort to provide him with oats and curds. Occasionally she'd grind up an apple for him to munch on. Life was good, and she'd already managed to settle into her role as Rumpelstiltskin's wife. He'd began spinning again full time, and the weather had become increasingly warm. She would often venture out into the woods to gather plants and herbs for dying the thread he made. One day while in the woods searching for walnut shells and bark to make brown dye, she came upon a woman weeping in a cluster of daffodils. She tucked her basket within the crook of her arm as she cautiously approached the sobbing peasant.

"Miss, are you all right?" Belle inquired gently. The woman's shoulders sagged as she turned to look at her. Her eyes were rimmed red from crying, and she wiped them on her dress sleeve.

"I've been down on my luck for sometime now. My husband is off at war, and I can barely provide for our newborn daughter. She's colicky, and It's such a chore to get her to nurse. She won't latch on, and I'm at my wits end. I've thought of delivering her to the church where they can better care for her," the woman remarked.

"You poor dear...How about I come back to your house with you and have a look at her? I'm a healer," Belle informed her.

"That's grand and all, but I'm afraid I have nothing to pay you," the woman sighed, overwhelmed with her inability to provide for her child.

"There will be no charge. Please, let me help you," Belle insisted.

"All right. I live on the edge of the village just over that hill," the woman remarked, pointing a dingy finger at the incline.

"Alright...What's your name?" Belle asked as she walked alongside her.

"My name is Wilma. And yours?" she inquired, glancing at the healer.

"Belle," she supplied as they reached the top of the hillside.

The rest of the trek was relatively silent until they came to a poorly constructed hovel near the edge of the woods. It appeared as though the roof was leaking and their were cracks in the walls. Belle became extremely concerned about how Wilma and her child were able to keep warm during the harsh winter they'd just endured.

"Is this your home?" she inquired, hoping her assumption was incorrect.

"Yes that's it," Wilma returned as she pushed open the flimsy door. Belle swallowed hard as she followed her. A girl of no more than eleven was holding a child swaddled in patched rags in her arms.

"Thank you for watching her, Mable. Run along home now," Wilma addressed the young girl. She pressed a couple of coppers in her hand. The blonde haired, dirty faced girl gave her a toothy grin as she handed her the babe, scampering out the door.

"What's her name?" Belle inquired, gesturing to the little one.

"Moraine," Wilma simply stated, nestling the child against her bosom

"May I?" Belle inquired, holding out her arms. Wilma nodded, passing the infant to Belle. The little one stirred in her arms, gazing up at her with bright blue eyes. Her face turned red and she began to wail.

"This is what I deal with all day long! I don't know how to make her stop!" Wilma lamented as she wept.

"Calm down. I believe she may just be hungry. May I assist you?" Belle asked the frazzled young mother.

"Yes! Please," Wilma pleaded in desperation. Belle gave the child back to Wilma and commanded her to sit on her pallet. Wilma compliantly obeyed as Belle settled down beside her.

"Unbutton your dress," Belle told her. Wilma undid the first few buttons until her breasts were visible. The beauty showed her how to properly adjust Moraine so she latched onto the nipple more easily. After a couple of tries, the babe was nursing contently at her breast. Wilma gazed at her daughter in awe, tears misting behind her eyes.

"I don't know how I'll ever repay you," Wilma remarked as tears cascaded down her cheeks.

"It'd be nice to have the company of another woman from time to time since there are certain things I'm unable to discuss with my husband," she said candidly.

"Aye...I have no one since my husband went to the front lines. May the gods be with him," she prayed.

Belle squeezed Wilma's hand reassuringly. "I'm sure he'll return home to you."

"Thank you, Missus Belle, for everything," she said, a smile blooming to her lips.

"You're most welcome, Wilma. How about I stop by tomorrow? Perhaps I could bring you some fresh bread?" she offered.

"That would be lovely. I'll be here all day," she returned.

"Well, I suppose I should be heading home now. Rumple will be wondering where I've run off to," Belle chortled as she made her way to the door.

"Rumple? As in Rumpelstiltskin?" Wilma probed with piqued interest.

"Yes, have you heard of him?" Belle asked, turning to glance at the other woman.

"Everyone knows of the village coward. I had no idea he'd remarried. His wife left him many moons ago with a child. I don't condone what she did. I'd be elated if my husband returned home even if he was branded a coward. What good is honor when you must die needlessly for it?" Wilma said with understanding more than scrutiny.

"I love my husband and our son. I've raised him since he was born, and the opinions of others hold no value in my heart. He has his faults, but he's ultimately a good man whom I love with everything in me," she expressed passionately.

"That's all which matters," Wilma nodded in agreement.

"Goodbye, and I'll see you soon," Belle said, bidding the other woman farewell. She made her way up the hill and back through the woods to their home. When she opened the door, Rumpelstiltskin was spinning at the wheel. He was so caught up in his work; he didn't register her come in. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pressing a warm kiss against his nape.

"I've missed you," she sighed, inhaling his earthy musk deeply.

He leaned into her touch, sighing contentedly. "I've missed you as well. Did you find anything to make the dyes with today?"

"I believe I've gathered enough bark and walnut shells to make a few batches of brown," she said, handing him her basket. "I can go gather more if you wish," she offered.

"This will do for today, sweetheart," he assured her, kissing her lips softly.

"All right, I'm going to start on dinner then," she said as she walked out the back door to gather vegetables from her garden. She couldn't help but think of Wilma who had no choice but fend for herself. She thanked her lucky stars Rumple was mostly healthy and alive. He was home with her while many women wondered daily if their husband's would ever return. As she gathered the turnips and carrots, her heart had never felt fuller. She was home, and she was loved.


	11. Chapter 11

The Woes of War: Part Eleven

A/An: I apologize for not updating in so long. I decided to fill another prompt today. Keep them coming, dearies!

Belle gazed up at the angry red skies, nearly dropping her basket as the pungent smell of rotting flesh assaulted her nostrils. She pinched her nose hard, attempting to dispel the revolting scent. She stared at the open field full of withering flowers. Everything was dying, and she had no way to stop it. Dismembered bodies of her former neighbors and family members surrounded her.

"Why did you leave us all there to die!? Didn't you care about us at all!?" a woman named, Mrs. Fitts demanded. Her flesh clung to her body in a sickening disarray and her eyes hung loosely from their sockets. She felt her stomach becoming weak, and she had the intense urge to vomit.

"Let's get her!" a man with his intestines hanging out bellowed.

"No! Please! I didn't mean to run away! I'm sorry!" she cried, hot tears streaming down her face from their jeering remarks. The world faded around her as she felt someone violently shaking her.

"Belle! Wake up!" it reverberated. She opened her eyes suddenly, gasping for breath as she turned towards the sound.

"Rumple, where am I?" she inquired, blinking owlishly.

"At home of course, in bed with me. You were having a nightmare," he returned, his sable eyes full of concern.

"I'm sorry for waking you. It was merely nothing," she fibbed, turning back over on her side. He reached out to her, squeezing her hip lightly.

"I'll understand if you don't want to talk about it, but it might make you feel better," he said, offering her a listening ear. Belle stiffened at his proposal. Truthfully, she'd been having nightmares for months now, but she didn't want to badger her husband with them. It was nothing to get worked up about. Part of her yearned to tell him every single meaningless detail. All she longed to do was crawl into her mother's lap like a frightened child and for her to whisper consoling words to her. She had no one besides her husband, and he had no one but her. That's what made them perfect for each other, their mutual bond of loss.

She turned to him, smiling hesitantly. "I was walking in a field of flowers, reminiscent of the ones I was gathering herbs in on the day I fled. The flowers begin to whither and die around me, and a throng of villagers surrounded me with grotesque flesh hanging off their bones. They started yelling at me, blaming me for running, instead of facing the ogres," she confided in him.

"Sweetheart, it was only a dream," he crooned, pushing chestnut locks from her eyes.

"I know but it doesn't feel that way. I should have went back and then I-"

"Would have died," he remarked, severing her comment.

"I've witnessed the ogres tear brawny men limb from limb. You'd be no exception. I wouldn't wish such a fate on my worst enemies," he stated, pulling her close to his bare chest. She dusted her fingers along the planes of his stomach, relishing the feeling of being near him.

"It's just, I can't believe their all dead. My family is truly gone, but my heart refuses to believe it," she sighed, laying her head against his chest.

"I told you I would take you there when you're ready. There's still a chance they could be-"

"There isn't, Rumple. I doubt there were any survivors but myself. I don't feel like pouring salt into old wounds. Going back would be like opening a trove full of hellish memories you wished to forget," she returned, focusing on the steady rhythm of his heart in attempts to calm herself.

"Belle, I wouldn't push you to do anything you weren't comfortable with but if you ever change your mind, I vow to go with you," he reassured her.

"I appreciate your support, Rumple, but I can assure you I won't be changing my mind," she replied, stifling back a yawn. He wrapped his arms securely around her lithe frame, pressing a soft kiss against her nape.

"As you wish, sweetheart," he said in his soothing brogue. Belle found it impossible to fall back asleep as thoughts of returning to her home village lingered within her mind. What if one of her relatives had managed to survive the attack? She wouldn't ever know if she didn't go back. A tear trekked down her cheek as she recounted their smiling faces and musical laughter. Deep down, she knew she had to face the ghosts from her past, but she wasn't sure if she had the strength to. She clung to the spinner slumbering beside her, for he was the only thing anchoring her to the world in that moment.

A/AN: In the next chapter, Belle will travel back to her home village, but what awaits her there?


	12. Chapter 12

The Woes of War: Part Twelve

A/AN: Belle visits her home village after the aftermath of the ogre attack.

Rumpelstiltskin noted a distinct change in his wife's behavior over the next several days. She'd became withdrawn and unnaturally quiet. He was positive it had something to do with her dream and reoccurring memories of the ogre attack. Pushing her to open up to him would only cause her to shut him out, so he gave her the space she desired and continued on with his daily routines.

He awoke one morning to find her sitting up in bed, a look of forlornness in her eyes. "I'm ready to go back. I have to go to make peace with all this," she told him.

He sat up, touching her shoulder lightly. "I shall accompany you then. We just need to make some arrangements for Bae," he remarked.

"Wilma can watch over him for a couple of days. I know she won't mind," she retorted somberly.

" Are you certain this is what you wish to do, sweetheart?" he queried.

"It's something I have to do to bring myself closure. I can't go on with the rest of my life not knowing the fate of my village," she sighed, threading her fingers through her locks timorously.

"I vow to be by your side every step of the way," he pledged, snaking his arms around her neck. She leaned against his lithe frame, inhaling his earthy musk. She was grateful for his support, because she knew she didn't have the strength to go through with this alone.

They left the following morning. Rumpelstiltskin had coaxed one of his neighbors into allowing them to borrow his work horse in exchange for some wool. The trip took nearly all day. Belle became queasy as they traipsed through the mountain valley she'd been gathering herbs in that fateful morning. She tightened her grip around his waist, burying her head in his silver streaked mane and clenching her eyes shut.

"Belle, I'm here. It's alright. I can turn back if you wish it," he crooned.

"No. Carry on," she commanded. He wordlessly led the horse through the mouth of the village. Her stomach somersaulted at the sight before her. The hovels had been leveled, and she saw no sign of a living soul.

"Take a left here. My hovel is close by," she stated, feeling her gut roil with bile. Rumpelstiltskin rode in the direction of the west, each step felt like a lifetime as they finally came to it. Miraculously, Belle's shack still stood. She felt a false sense of hope begin to gnaw at her as she jumped off the horse, rushing ahead of him. He tried to call out to her, begging for her to wait, but she couldn't hear him.

Blood thrummed in her ears as she neared the tiny house. She pushed open the door. It creaked familiarly, bringing back an onslaught of memories of her father scolding she and her siblings for traipsing in and out too much.

"Mother? Father?" she called within the dimly lit hovel. Shafts of sunlight leaked through the roof as she looked around. Everything was as she'd left it. Her father's tools were still scattered about while her mother's knitting was left untouched in the rocking chair. Belle stooped down to pick up her sister's rag doll when she felt something underfoot. She made her way out the backdoor, her hope faltering. Her knees buckled, and she fell to the ground when she saw seven small stones jutting from the earth. She clasped her hands over her mouth, letting out an anguished cry when she realized what they were. The soldiers must have swept the village for survivors before burying the dead. The realization she was now an orphan consumed her. She wept bitterly, unable to control herself as her husband lowered himself to the ground beside her. He steadied her with his slender arms. She cried until she was empty. She wasn't sure if they'd been there minutes or hours. Time seemed futile now as she wrestled with the new revelation of the loss of her entire family.

"Not one of them survived. I was the only one," she mumbled tearfully.

"Your family would be grateful you were alive, Belle. Don't blame yourself for this. It isn't your fault," he attempted to console her.

"Rumple, I need for you to help me forget," she requested.

"Of course, sweetheart. It's growing dark. Perhaps we should find lodging for the night," he supplied, helping her to her feet.

"It may sound silly, but I want to stay here tonight. I'd like to go through my parent's belongings and take a few mementos with me," she said as they walked back inside the hovel.

"Anything you want, sweetheart," he reassured her, placing his hand on the small of her back.

"These were mother's favorite knitting needles and here is her book of herbs," she said as she gathered the priceless treasures in her arms.

"Let's place them in here for safekeeping," he suggested, holding out his worn satchel.

"Thank you, husband," she replied, giving him a watery smile as she filled the bag with her family's belongings. They started a fire within the hearth to provide themselves with warmth for the night. The fire crackled and popped, bringing her a sense of comfort as she lied down on her former pallet beside her beloved.

"What's on your mind, my love?" he asked, taking her hand and placing a chaste kiss against her knuckles.

"Just old memories. I'm trying to remember the pleasantries instead of focusing on my losses," she responded, entangling her bare legs around his. He groaned when she stroked him through his trousers.

"This day has been filled with a slew of emotions. I don't want to leave this place with a bad memory. I want to make a good one with the man I love before we depart," she said, kissing him fervently. He wrapped his arms around her, rolling on top of her. He gazed deeply into her azure irises, caressing her cheek gently with his thumb. Her eyes reflected sorrow and heartache, and he longed to banish it all to the depths of the sea.

"When I came home from the war, I never expected to find my wife had left our son with a complete stranger. As time passed, I realized I wouldn't change those circumstances if I was able. You and Bae have brought me an unmeasurable amount of joy. I cannot fathom why you chose me, but I'm grateful you did. I'll do whatever it takes to make you feel complete, sweetheart. What is it you desire? What can I do to ease the pain?" he asked with such tenderness in his eyes, she nearly wept at how much love emanated from his heart for her.

"Just stay by my side. Never leave me," she answered, tugging at his clothing.

"I promised you forever, and I meant it. I'm never going to leave you, Belle," he swore, sitting up to free himself of his garments. He undressed her and pressed himself against her skin. She sighed sweetly as he peppered her collarbone with kisses. He kneaded her small breasts with his spinner's hands until she was mumbling his name incoherently.

"I need you inside of me, Rumple," she pleaded in a sultry voice, causing him to harden at her declaration. He lined himself up at her entrance. He partially entered her, causing her to hiss with need as she raked her nails down his back. Belle acted like he was the most skilled lover in the realm whenever they made love. It brought him a great sense of pride since he mostly felt useless with his torn ligament.

Her eyes filled with the depth of love he couldn't measure as he moved slowly within her core. "Yes, that's it!" she cried as her wetness increased.

"I cannot understand why you desire me so much," he groaned, increasing his pace.

"Because I love you. You're kind and you care about my thoughts and feelings. I'm not merely a possession to you," she said as his thrusts become more erratic. Her declaration of her love for him would be something he would never grow tired of hearing. Rumpelstiltskin moaned deeply in his throat, his chest rumbling with the sounds of his pleasure. He captured her euphoric cries with his lips, until he felt her slick walls clench around him, pulling him into the void where only she existed, milking him of his release. A light sheen of sweat coated her brow as he unsheathed himself from her delicious warmth. He pulled her close to his body, nuzzling her neck affectionately.

"I love you so much, Rumple," she sighed, snuggling closer to him, her heart feeling fuller than it had when she discovered her family's fate.

"And I love you, Belle," he returned, kissing her brow affectionately, and holding her securely against him. They fell into a deep slumber and despite her loss, Belle found herself dreaming of the day her new life began which was the day he walked into the hovel, dusty and scarred from battle. Their lives had never been the same since that moment, and she was thankful they were both able to find a semblance of happiness amidst the pain.


	13. Chapter 13

The Woes of War: Part Thirteen

A/AN: It's been awhile, but I'm finally back with a new chapter. :)

Belle gazed down in adoration as she observed her son and Moraine sitting on a blanket jabbering happily with each other. Several weeks had passed since she'd discovered the horrendous fate of her home village. Blocking it out of her subconscious seemed impossible, so she took to leaving the hovel more to distract herself. She was currently spending the day with Wilma and had decided to bring Baelfire along. He and Moraine were delightful playmates, and it gave her something else to focus on instead of her woes.

Wilma busied herself with her stitching while Belle admired the infants. They sat in companionable silence until the other woman decided to speak. "I received a letter yesterday from the battlefront. Terrence is finally coming home to me."

Belle locked gazes with her friend. "That's so wonderful, Wilma! I'm sure he'll be delighted to meet Moraine," she grinned exuberantly at the news.

Wilma sighed despondently, putting her needlework aside. "I'm not sure how I feel about it really. They say war changes a man. What if he isn't the same man I fell in love with?" she disclosed, full of dread.

Belle clasped her companion's hand in hers consolingly. "The woes which come with war are innumerable. Be thankful he wasn't killed by the ogres. Remember this blessing is one which many women wish the gods had bestowed upon them. Having your husband back is a tremendous feat, and things are going to work out splendidly. I'm sure before too long, Moraine will have another sibling to keep her company," she reassured her.

"You never fail to uplift me, Belle. But what about yourself? You and Rumpelstiltskin have been married for nearly four months. Do you have any plans for starting a family of your own?" Wilma questioned, catching the beauty by surprise.

It occurred to her she hadn't been properly keeping track of her cycle, and she was already a month late. "Eventually one day, but we have Bae, and he's enough for now," she downplayed as the probability she was currently with child entered her mind.

"Of course," Wilma nodded as she picked back up her needles.

"I should probably be going. It's nearing lunch time, and Rumple will be expecting me," she supplied, scooping Baelfire into her arms.

"Farewell to you then. Come back and visit when you're able," Wilma returned, picking up Moraine and walking her to the door.

"Goodbye, Wilma. I'll try and come back in a couple of days," she answered, making her way up the hill as Bae squirmed in her arms. She began to pat his back, and he fell asleep just as they reached the hovel. She pushed open the door to see her husband had already made a pot of stew which was presently simmering over the hearth.

"Did you have a good time at Wilma's?" Rumpelstiltskin inquired as she placed their snoozing son in his crib.

"Yes, she's gotten word her husband is returning home from the war. Perhaps it means other women will receive the same news as well," she said hopefully, seating herself in a chair beside the hearth.

"He might be returning for a wee break. Men aren't called home from war unless they're injured or dying. He'll have to go back if it isn't the case," he forewarned, putting a damper on her good news.

"Maybe the tides have turned, and we've actually forced the ogres back," Belle countered, becoming agitated by his pessimism.

"I highly doubt it, sweetheart," he retorted, stirring the pot of stewing vegetables.

Belle felt herself growing irritated by his remarks. "Not everyone had a way out like you, Rumple. Some men actually chose to stay and fight!" she exclaimed, instantly regretting her searing remark when she saw the hurt flash in his sable depths.

"I'm sorry you've shackled yourself to the village coward, Belle. Although, you didn't seem to have a problem with it last night when I was rutting between your thighs!" he growled, clearly disgruntled by her comment.

Her skin prickled with vexation, but she bit her tongue, refusing to give in to her anger, but she was unable to resist the urge to speak. "Do you think I don't understand what the wages of war is? My whole bloody village was slaughtered by those foul beasts, and I'm terrified for what the future holds for us!" She asserted. Her hand instinctively touched her abdomen as she pondered upon their uncertain demise.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. I shouldn't have said those things. Forgive me, my darling," he pleaded, clasping her hand in his, kissing her knuckles softly. Belle gazed down at her husband with that familiar look of fear in his eyes. Each time they had a squabble, he was afraid she would leave him.

"I'm sorry too, husband. There's just so much weighing on my mind," she sighed, averting her gaze to their snoozing son.

"Share your burdens with me, wife. I may not can fix anything, but I'll listen," he encouraged, leading her to their pallet. The mattress dipped as he joined her.

"I'm late, Rumple. It's been nearly six weeks since we visited my village, and I believe I'm with child," she confided, averting her gaze to the hearth, fearful of his reaction.

"Belle, what joyous news!" he cried, pulling her into his inviting embrace. His musk of sweat and leather minced into a comforting aroma. She laid her head against his shoulder contentedly.

"I'll need to find work. Perhaps they could use a pair of extra hands at the local field hospital. I'm a skilled healer after all," she remarked.

She glanced up at her husband who shook his head firmly. "I forbid it, Belle. No wife of mine is going to work in that damnable place! If anyone is going to take on more work, it's me!" he rebuked her.

Belle tore away from his embrace, standing to her feet. "Who would employ you, Rumple? You can barely walk with your lame leg! There are many women who must work to provide for their households, and labor isn't beneath me! I could aid those dying men. They could use me!" she declared, her face reddening with frustration.

His eyes welled with emotion as tears trailed down his cheeks. "It's just, I can't bear to lose you, sweetheart! What if an ogre charges through the camp, and you have no way to escape!? I would surely become dust without you!" he lamented.

Her countenance softened. She snaked her arms around him, steadying him with her embrace. "I'm not going anywhere you, silly man. If it distresses you so much then I won't do it, but I do need to find work. The child will be born during the winter, and I want us to have enough food stowed away, so we can feed ourselves," she retorted, kissing his crown of hair affectionately.

"I'll spin more wool, and we can sell our wares in other towns who'll pay more for it," he said hopefully. Belle nodded in agreement, knowing deep down she would have to work with a fourth mouth to feed. Somehow she would convince him to trust her with this.

A/AN: More on the way soon! I took the smut out, because I wasn't happy with the outcome. Sorry for the confusion.


	14. Chapter 14

The Woes of War: Part Fourteen

A/AN: Only six chapters left to go after this one. Thank you all for your continued support of this story.

Nearly a month had passed since Belle suspected she was pregnant. Her suspicions were confirmed when the morning sickness began, along with her detest of certain smells. She brewed herself some herbal tea to help ease her roiling gut. She spent more time away from home, secretly searching for work while her husband believed she was at Wilma's. She didn't want to deceive him, but he'd been adamant in his demand for her not to work. His stubborn pride would cause them all to starve to death this winter if she didn't do something about it. He spun more frequently to make more thread, but it was still a far cry from what they would need to make ends meet.

The wails of the injured and dying caught her attention one evening from afar off as she was purchasing fresh eggs from a local vendor. "What on earth are those sounds coming from?" she inquired to the old woman selling poultry.

"That would be the local field hospital, mam. Word is they're shorthanded on help. There's more wounded coming in than they can keep track of, and they don't have enough beds to house them all. They mostly take volunteers, but the demand for aid is so prevalent that the duke is willing to pay those who can prove their skills," the toothless hag informed her.

"Thank you for the information," Belle said, nodding respectfully, tucking her eggs in her straw basket. She knew Rumpelstiltskin would forbid it, but her hands itched to do something. What he didn't know wouldn't hurt him, she told her guilty conscious.

She marched towards the field hospital, her galoshes creating squishing sounds as she trekked through the deep mud. Her eyes scanned the distance, drinking in the sights and sounds which surrounded her. Women scurried about, carrying buckets of water and clean linens. An array of bodies of the wounded and dying laid side by side under the tent. The quarters were too close, but Belle knew poor villages didn't have the luxury of better establishments. The duke's knights always got preferential treatment and would end up at the paupers' field hospitals. When they were well enough, they would be toted off to the castle for recovery. For most of the poor, it was fighting in hopes of earning a few coppers to bring home to their starving families, but for most of them, this would be their last stop.

Belle strolled past the women flitting about, hoping she could speak to the lead healer. "Excuse me!" she called out, hoping to gain someone's attention over the commotion. She wasn't paying any attention where she was going when a young woman ran right into her.

"I'm so sorry! Forgive me, I was simply hoping to speak to the lead healer of this establishment. I'm looking for work," she supplied, glancing at the young woman with curls of honey blonde hair.

"Belle, is that you?" the young woman queried, sitting her bucket down momentarily.

"Margo?" Belle quizzed, gazing intently at the familiar looking girl.

"Belle, it's me! I thought you were dead!" Margo cried, enveloping her in a tight hug.

"Margo, I can't believe it's really you! How did you escape the village? I went back, but I didn't see any sign of anyone!" she exclaimed as the familiar feeling of hope bubbled up in her chest.

Margo sighed somberly, shaking her head regretfully. "The survivors were sparse, and those of us who lived migrated to surrounding villages. I ventured here with my brother Leif and his wife, Trina," she told her.

"It's wonderful to see you, Margo. It feels so relieving to see someone from my home village and to know they survived," she beamed joyously.

"Aye...but what of you, Belle? Have have you been fairing these last few months?" she inquired.

"It's quite a long story, but I'm married now, and my husband I have a wee one on the way," she smiled touching her abdomen instinctively.

"Such wonderful news! Is your husband fighting in the wars then?" she queried. Belle's gaze flitted about, growing uncomfortable with disclosing the true reason for her husband's discharge from the war. She was becoming weary of the scrutiny. People were so quick to judge them without realizing the true reason of his sacrifice.

"He was discharged after an injury. That's how we met," Belle shrugged, refusing to say more.

"Well as long as he treats you kindly then that's all which matters. However, a field hospital is no place for a pregnant woman. Illness spreads like wildfire here, and you wouldn't want to expose your bairn to it," Margo expressed, touching her flat abdomen which would ripen with child in the coming months.

"Surely there's something I could help with. My skills would be of vital use here," Belle pleaded.

Margo shifted her gaze towards the camp and back to Belle. "Lady Irene is in charge here, and she won't allow a pregnant woman anywhere near the men, but we could use your hands for other things like gathering water and grounding herbs together to make tonics with. I know you're quite skilled at such," Margo expounded.

Belle squeezed her old friend's hand lightly. "Thank you so much, Margo. Could I start working today?" she asked.

"Come back in the morning. I'll need to speak to Lady Irene first," she supplied, picking back up her bucket. "I must get back to work, but I'll see you in the morning, Belle," Margo stated, bidding her farewell.

Belle stalked back towards the village, heading in the direction of home. Her heart was laden with dread, but telling Rumpelstiltskin would only complicate matters. She would need to do this discreetly. As she opened the door she was met by his cross gaze.

"Where were you, Belle? I expected you home hours ago! Wilma stopped by to purchase some thread, and I asked her about your outing yesterday. She said she hadn't scheduled any outing with you which means you lied to me!" he remarked accusingly, distress flashing in his sable depths.

Belle sighed exhaustively, placing her basket on the table. "I've been searching for odd jobs around the village without any luck. The lady who sold me these eggs pointed me in the direction of the field hospital. I ran into a girl from my old village, Margo. She says they wouldn't allow me to assist the wounded, but I could be used in other ways such as gathering water and mixing herbs for tonics," she admitted, averting her gaze shamefully.

He touched her cheek lightly, caressing it affectionately with his thumb. "I'm not going to pretend I'm not upset or displeased by your actions, but I'm at fault too. I shouldn't have forbade you from doing what you were passionate about," he apologized. She gazed up at him with tears welling in her eyes.

"I promise to be cautious, Rumple. If it becomes too strenuous, I'll stop. It'll only be a few days a week at most," she vowed.

"Alright, but I expect a full report every day, and If I feel it's too much for you, you'll stop," he proposed.

"Deal," she nodded compliantly.

"And no more lying. We promised to be honest with each other," he said, cradling her face in his hands amorously.

"Absolutely. I'm sorry for withholding the truth from you, Rumple. I'll never do it again," she returned, leaning into his touch.

He brushed a kiss against her brow. "I love you, Belle," his eyes glimmering with ardor.

"And I love you too, Rumple," she sighed, thankful she had a husband so willing to forgive her when the world had shunned him. Belle thought it was a true miracle he hadn't allowed it to make him bitter despite the cruelty it'd bestowed upon him. He held more love in his heart than anyone she'd ever met, and she was grateful that heart belonged to her.


	15. Chapter 15

The Woes of War: Part Fifteen

A/AN: Five more chapters or so to go and then an epilogue. I apologize for my brief hiatus, but I just recently published a book and had to pour all of my time into that. I'm back for the time being.

The days bled into weeks as Belle worked tirelessly at the field hospital. Her belly began to ripen with child, but this didn't deter her from her duties. She worked until her bones ached, and the sun had begun to set in the distance. There was never a shortage of bodies or of those who needed to be tended to. The pay was decent; it kept bread on the table, and helped to compensate her husband's meager spinner's wages. Though her husband didn't approve of her working so many hours, he bit his tongue, because deep down he knew they needed the money.

Belle drudged into the hovel, her eyes blurring with drowsiness. It was a quarter until midnight, but there had been a soldier who'd developed a severe case of gangrene in his leg. Despite her orders not to touch any of the afflicted, she had no choice but to assist in the amputation. There were few who were trained so efficiently in her skill. The candle was still burning when she arrived. It flickered within the shadows. Her husband had his back turned to her. She knew he was angry. She bit her lip worriedly as she hesitantly approached him.

"Rumple, I'm home," she confirmed quietly. He turned around slowly, diverting his gaze in her direction. She sucked in a nervous breath, training her eyes on the dirt floor as he limped towards her.

"I guess you haven't a clue what time it is, do ye?" he whispered accusingly in his thick accent.

"I'm well aware of the late hour, Rumple. One of the injured soldiers had to have his leg removed. It was eat up with infection. The women who work there aren't as skilled in these matters as I am, and they needed my assistance. How could I watch an innocent man die if there was something which could be done to spare his life?" she countered, daring to meet his gaze.

His jaw clenched frustratingly as he exhaled sharply. "As my wife, it's your duty to be obedient to me. Our child will be born in a few short months. It's time you start thinking more of the well being of our child and yourself than those dying on the front. I consented to your wishes to assist at the hospital, but you're becoming too overly involved, Belle. You're not to go back. I forbid it," he retorted.

"There's still much to be done! I must go back tomorrow to make sure his injuries are properly healing! How can you be so cruel to deny a man his life?" she asserted, stepping forward.

"Calm your tone, or you'll wake, Bae!" he hissed, gesturing his hands downward in hopes she'd quiet down.

Belle untied her bodice and pulled her dress over her head until she was left only in her shift. "I'm going to bed, Rumple. We'll settle this in the morning," she yawned, settling down on the pallet and facing away from him. She was too tired to quarrel with him. She faintly heard him mumble something as he put an ample amount of space between them on the makeshift bed. She closed her eyes, only to open them what seemed like a few moments later.

She gathered several hours had already passed as the first light of dawn filtered through the single glass pane. She glanced over her shoulder to see her husband was still sound asleep. She crept out of bed, quickly dressing and slipping out the door. Despite his wishes for her not to return to the field hospital, she still wished to see how her patient was healing. She walked the three mile trek towards the infirmary to see peculiar black smoke rising in the distance. She hurriedly ran the rest of the way, only to be halted by two brawny men.

"You must not go that way, Miss. There's a purging going on throughout the camp, and it wouldn't be appropriate for you to see such horrors," one interjected.

"What do you mean, a purging? I work there! Let me go! I must go help them!" Belle lamented, struggling in their grasp.

"The clerics have stepped in to rid the world of the unclean under the Duke of the Frontland's orders. It's best you run along home, lass. You're extremely fortunate you weren't caught amidst the crossfire this morning," the other man informed her.

"But why would the Duke permit such cruelty? Those men were merely the wounded soldiers who fought for his cause!" she exclaimed, pulling away from their grasp.

"It's merely politics, mam. The Duke has a slew of stronger soldiers amongst his ranks to worry about those who are no longer able to fight for him. He isn't going to continue to fund their care any longer," a man with a graying beard illuminated. Belle turned on her heels and sprinted the rest of the way home. She threw open the door where her husband still lay in bed. Tears fell in rivulets from her eyes as she spooned herself against him, burying her face against his nape.

"Belle, what's the matter, darling?" he crooned softly, turning over in her arms.

"I'm sorry I disobeyed you, Rumple, but I had to go back to check on my patient. I didn't make it to the hospital before I was intercepted by two men who forbade me from going. He said the Duke had ordered the clerics to cleanse the camps of the afflicted. The Duke ordered all of those helpless soldiers to be burned to death, Rumple!" she sobbed helplessly against his nightshirt.

"The Duke is truly a vile and evil man, Belle. Sometimes I'm almost convinced he orchestrated the Ogres' War to line his pocket's with the peasant's gold," he returned, holding her close.

"Then he must be stopped! These wars can't carry on forever!" she asserted, gazing up at him with teary, determined, azure irises.

"And what do you propose we do? We have no power. You must rest, my darling. I'll prepare us some hot tea and ready Bae for the day," he informed her. Belle wordlessly nodded as he loosened his grip on her to go prepare their brew. A plan began to formulate in the back of her mind. Perhaps she would go speak to the Duke herself and unravel his nefarious plot. Her family's blood was on his hands including that of countless others. His cruel reign must be obliterated.

A/AN: Anyone have any clue as to what Belle is up to? Leave your thoughts in the comments!


	16. Chapter 16

The Woes of War: Part Sixteen

A/AN: What? Two updates in a week!? It's probably just because I'm eager to finish this one. I hope you enjoy this chapter!

The weeks passed by swiftly, giving way to Winter. Belle attempted to put the Duke's merciless massacre out of her mind as she prepared for the birth of their first child. It was a cold wintry day the day she gave birth to their son, Gideon. The pain was unbearable. Rumpelstiltskin wiped sweat from Belle's brow, who took in heavy, laden breaths. She'd been in labor for the past several hours. The village midwife stood between her parted legs, ready to receive the babe she would soon deliver.

"I'm so tired, Rumple," she mumbled to her husband. The spinner stood by her side, holding her hand tightly for moral support.

"It'll all be over soon, sweetheart," he crooned, patting her arm consolingly.

"Alright, Belle, I can see the head! I just need for you to push for me one more time!" the midwife instructed. Belle felt like she couldn't take another breath, overwhelmed by exhaustion, but she had to do this for their child. She pushed with all her might, focusing solely on her child until she heard her newborn's cries.

"It's a boy!" the midwife announced exuberantly, picking up the squalling babe and swaddling him in a wool blanket, Rumplestiltskin had spun himself. She handed the tiny fussing infant to its mother who couldn't focus on anything but her pain moments ago. Yet, when she saw her bundle of joy, all of her misery faded. She was overcome with emotion when he opened his brilliant sable eyes.

Tears washed unbidden over her ashen cheeks as pride swelled within her heart."You're so beautiful," she gushed to the tiny infant, who affectionately grabbed her finger with his wee hand, his cries temporarily ceasing.

"You did it, my love," Rumpelstiltskin beamed proudly, admiring his wife and newborn son. He sweeped damp locks of hair from her eyes, kissing her brow affectionately.

"If only mother and father were here to see it," she sighed, her heart coiling with regret as her mind flashed back to the day she lost everything. She held their son protectively to her breast as he eagerly nursed from her bosom.

"Oh Belle, I'm sure they're looking down on you right now. They may not be here in body, but surely they're here in spirit," he replied encouragingly.

She nodded amicably. "What shall we call him?" she inquired, glancing up at her husband. It was ancient tradition for the father to choose the name for their offspring if they were alive.

"I'd like for you to choose his name, Belle. You deserve the honor," he remarked, catching her off guard.

"But Rumple, the ancient tradition says the father is supposed to choose the child's name," Belle countered, casting him a quizzical glance.

"And when have I ever been one for tradition? As your husband, I command you choose his name," he returned. Tears dimmed her eyes as she glanced up at him amorously. He bent down to place a clumsy kiss on her lips.

"Thank you, husband. If I'm to choose his moniker, then I'd like to call him Gideon, after the legendary hero of old who saved our people from the ogres in years past. May a new savior arise among our household who shall save his people from their enemies and from the corruption which runs rampant amongst our kingdom," she declared, placing a delicate kiss against the babe's fuzzy head.

"Gideon is a strong name," he agreed.

"Would you like to hold your son, Rumple?" Belle inquired, glancing at her spinner husband.

"Indeed I would," he smiled as she handed him the squirming infant. He beamed, full of fatherly affection for their new addition, the purest form of their love. A baby born out of true love would grow up strong and fearless, or so he hoped.

"Your brother is going to be so thrilled to meet you, Gideon. You'll become fast friends, I'm sure of it," he grinned, cradling the babe gently in his arms. Gideon opened his sable eyes, gazing up curiously at the spinner.

"Our family is now complete," Belle mumbled drowsily, closing her eyes as she drifted off.

"I believe your mother is exhausted. You should sleep as well," he told the babe as he settled down in the rocking chair by the roaring hearth, humming an old lullaby from years long past. The child closed his eyes as Rumpelstiltskin lulled him to sleep with his soothing brogue. He glanced at his snoozing wife, and thought of Baelfire who was currently in Wilma's company for the evening. Tomorrow they would all be together, a complete family at last. Injuring his leg had been worth it all, and he'd do it all over again if it meant he got to live this moment. The woes of war were relentless, and he was fortunate to have found a semblance of happiness along the way.

A/AN: I know this chapter was short. In the next one, several years will have passed. The new book I've written is called "Beat of a Heart" on Amazon for those of you who are interested. It's available in Kindle and paperback format. I'm currently working on a fantasy novel which will debut in June. Happy Reading!


	17. Chapter 17

The Woes of War: Part Seventeen

A/AN: I'm thrilled to say that I know how I'm going to now end this fic. Enjoy, Dearies, and I thank you all for your continued support!

Six Years Later...

Belle scrubbed their clothing tirelessly against the wash board settled inside the large tub. Rumpelstiltskin had gone to market for the day, and their two sons were scampering around somewhere around the back of the hovel. After she'd hung up the washing, she was startled when her elder son, Baelfire came running at full speed towards her.

"Momma! Momma! Gideon has did something remarkable!" her son exclaimed at the top of his lungs, raven curls falling in his eyes.

"And, what would that be, Bae?" Belle inquired with disinterest as she turned towards him.

"Come see for yourself!" Bae replied, taking her by the hand and dragging her to the backyard.

Belle compliantly followed her son to the backyard, wondering what sort of mischief the boys had gotten themselves into this time. Belle wiped her wet hands on her apron as she observed Gideon standing in a forest clearing. A doe was standing near her son, but something was off. As Belle silently drew closer to him, she noted how Gideon bent down beside the animal.

Beside Gideon was an injured fawn. Its leg was mangled as if it had been caught in a trap. "I don't understand," Belle whispered, gazing down at Baelfire.

"Just watch, momma!" he coaxed. As Belle turned back to the scene before her, she noted how he guided his hands over the fawn's injury. She watched as he closed his eyes, appearing to be in deep thought. She gasped as a white light emitted from his fingertips. The light encircled the fawn's leg, closing up the torn flesh.

Suddenly Gideon opened his eyes, and the fawn and its mother sprinted off into the woods. As Gideon rose from the ground, he turned towards her. "Hey, mom!" he greeted her, waving childishly. Belle rushed to her younger son. She knelt down beside him, grasping him by the shoulders.

"Gideon, what did you just do? What was that!?" she demanded, panic gripping her chest.

"It's nothing. It's just something that happens sometimes. If I concentrate really hard, sometimes I can heal injured animals. It started happening a couple of weeks ago when I found a bird with a broken wing in the woods on the way to Moraine's. Bae was going to shoot it with his slingshot, but I told him I thought we should help it. He didn't believe I could do it, but I just thought really hard about healing its wing, and this white light shot out of my hands. The bird was fine and flew away after that. Bae said he could do it too, but he wasn't able to heal the rabbit he'd shot we had for supper a few weeks ago," Gideon explained as if it were some natural occurrence.

"I see, does anyone else know about your abilities?" she asked calmly.

"No, just Bae, and now you," he shrugged.

"Good, do me a favor, and don't tell anyone else about your powers, okay, honey?" she cautioned.

"But, why not?" he queried, casting her a quizzical glance.

"Because you're a very special boy, Gideon, and I want to keep you safe," she responded, caressing his cheek affectionately.

"Okay, I promise," he replied, glancing at her with brilliant sable eyes.

"Why don't you and Bae go play inside? I'm going to go fetch your father at the market, and while I'm gone, I'll pick you both up a sweet bun," she vowed.

"Really? Do you promise?" Bae cut in exuberantly.

"I do, now get inside! Both of you!" Belle commanded.

The pair bounded towards the hovel. She sighed in relief as the door closed behind them. She couldn't wrap her mind around Gideon's powers, nor could she comprehend it. She'd heard of instances where children were born with special abilities. She'd just never imagined her son would be one of them, but she knew it was true because she'd witnessed it with her own eyes. This complicated matters, because if the wrong person ever found out, they'd take Gideon away from them. She wouldn't let that happen.

This bloody war had stolen much from her, but her children were one thing she wouldn't allow it to take from her.

As she made her way into the heart of the village, she noticed her husband staring inattentively into the distance. His wares were fully stocked which meant it had been a slow day at the market. The wars had plundered everyone's pockets of gold which meant times were hard, but they always managed to get by somehow.

"Rumple!" she called for him, arresting his attention.

"Belle? What are you doing here?" he remarked in disbelief, hobbling towards her.

"Rumple, we need to talk. It's Gideon," she replied, releasing the breath she hadn't realized she was holding.

"What's wrong? Is he okay!?" he demanded, gripping her shoulder tightly.

"He's fine. The boys are both safe at home," she reassured him, squeezing his arm reassuringly.

"Then, why are you here if everything's okay?" he quizzed.

"Because I witnessed something peculiar with him at home earlier, but I refuse to discuss it where there are listening ears. Now, let's head home. It's not like you're selling anything anyway," she ordered.

"Fine. Do you care to help me pack up?" he inquired.

"Yes, as soon as I buy the boys a sweet bun. It was the only thing I could bribe them with to get them to to go back inside," she remarked.

"Alright. The baker should have plenty left," he stated as he began packing away his wares.

Belle hurried to the baker's stall, owned by an older man in his sixties. "I'd like two sweet buns, please," she supplied, placing two coppers on the counter. He begrudgingly handed her the confections. Belle was used to the village's scorn and ill treatment of she and her husband. She often dreamed of moving to another village, but the wars prevented anyone from uprooting themselves. As chaos ensued around them, their small corner of the world was left untouched, thanks to the brave soldiers who fought valiantly. For nearly eight years, the wars had raged on with no sign of ceasing. Everyone was living on borrowed time, because the ogres could swoop in and destroy them all at any moment.

When Belle arrived back at her husband's stall, he'd nearly packed up all of his wares. "I thought you needed my help?" Belle inquired, glancing at him questionably.

"It wasn't as cumbersome as I'd thought it'd be," he chuckled, tugging the wagon behind him.

"Allow me," Belle supplied, reaching for the wagon's handle.

"I've got it," he reassured her, smacking her hand away lovingly.

"But your leg," she protested.

"Will fair just fine, It's been nearly eight years since I injured it, and I'm still making it," he reassured her, but Belle could see the strained look permeating his features. His fallacy bothered him a great deal, and she knew his pain was immense. Her mind flashed to Gideon healing the fawn's injury. Could their son heal Rumple's ligament as well?

"So, what were you saying about Gideon?" he inquired once they weren't in earshot of anyone.

Belle wet her lips worriedly as they traipsed down the lane. She inhaled deeply before relaying the events of the day to him. "As I was laundering our clothing this morning, Bae came bounding up. He told me he had something to show me. I followed him to the backyard to see Gideon standing over an injured fawn. He closed his eyes and his hands floated over the animal. A white light emitted from his hands, and the deer's wound healed immediately before my eyes. I asked him if it'd happened any other times, and he said it had. Rumple, I believe our son may have magical abilities," she revealed.

"Are you certain?" he probed, his jaw coiled tight like a spring.

"Yes, and I can assure you, your other son will vouch for me," she retorted.

"Then we must protect him at all costs. The duke nor anyone can ever know about any of this," he asserted, halting the wagon momentarily.

"And what did you have in mind, Rumple?" she asked, her heart thrumming rapidly against her rib cage.

"We must encourage him not to use his powers again. It's the only way," he sighed regretfully.

"As much as I'd like to disagree with you, I can't. There's no other way," she returned, feeling her heart plummet within her chest. Their lives had just gotten more complicated, though she'd never believed it were possible.

A/AN: Gideon deals with his parent's command to never use his powers, and he meets an unlikely friend who agrees to help him learn to control them.


	18. Chapter 18

The Woes of War: Part Eighteen

A/AN: Only two more chapters to go! I'm certainly ecstatic for the conclusion of this fic!

"I'm sorry, Gideon, but you must understand why your mother, and I are leery of you using your powers. There are a lot of bad people in the world who wouldn't think twice of stealing you away from us and using you to further their own vile plot," Rumpelstiltskin admonished, grasping his younger son's shoulders, fatherly concern flashing in his ocher depths.

"No! You don't understand! It isn't something I can just make go away!" he cried, pushing his father away. Rumpelstiltskin attempted to reach for his boy, but he ripped himself from the spinner's grasp, dashing out of the hovel and towards the forest. He could hear his mother calling out to him from the front yard, her voice growing hoarse as she chased him into the woods, but he proved to be faster than her. He wandered to his secret hiding spot, a small cave settled deep within the wood. He often came here to think, and the solace would provide him with much time to gather his thoughts.

He hugged his knees as he sobbed quietly. No one understood his pain. He was an outcast, a freak with an unwanted gift his parents even wished he didn't possess. He opened his eyes, blinking back tears when he saw an ethereal flickering green light appear in front of him. He curiously reached out to touch the light which darted away from him. He stood to his feet, deciding to follow the light, which led him deeper into the cave.

He was astonished to find faded cave paintings of dead ogres surrounding a man holding a up a saber. Gideon reached out to touch the painting which the green orb of light illuminated. When his hand made contact with the painting, he felt a surge of power course through him, knocking him backwards. An onslaught of foggy images assaulted his cognition of a man adorned in armor plowing down hoards of ogres. The ogres would come bounding over the hills, and he would raise his mighty blade in the air, and recite an incantation from an ancient tongue which he'd never heard before. White hot light would emanate from his sword and severe the army of ogres in just one blow. The vision distorted, and he hazily opened his eyes to see an ethereal looking being standing over him. She had golden hair and wore a green dress. His eyes widened in astonishment, noting the two translucent appendages jutting from her backside.

"You're a fairy," he announced, utterly transfixed on the sight of her.

"That I am, dearest Gideon. And I'm here to help you," she replied, holding out her hand to him. He hesitantly took it, rising to his feet. He blinked owlishly, spellbound by her unearthly beauty. She was the most gorgeous sight he'd ever beheld in his life.

"Help me?" he stammered.

"Yes, my name's Tinker Bell, but you may call me Tink. I'm your guardian fairy, and I've been watching over you since the day of your birth. You're a very special boy, Gideon, but I'm sure you've already figured that out," the fairy introduced herself, gracing him with a brilliant smile.

"My mother and father want me to conceal my abilities. Papa says trouble will surely follow if I tell anyone about them," he returned, frustratingly kicking a rock with his boot.

She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, calming him. "Your parents mean well, Gideon, but they don't understand the full weight of your destiny. You weren't called to blend in, but to stand out," she revealed.

"My destiny?" he queried, a look of puzzlement flickering across his gaze.

"Come with me," she instructed, leading him back to wall where the faded paintings resided.

"I don't understand. What's all of this?" he inquired, flourishing his hand fluidly towards the ancient artwork.

"The man in the painting was a mighty warrior who lived over a thousand years ago. He banished the ogres in the last great Ogre's War and saved his people. His name was also Gideon just like yours, but this isn't at all coincidental. Your mother gifted you with his name, and there's much unfortold purpose behind it. Your birth was the product of true love which is why you have magic. Gideon the Great was your ancestor, and the same warrior spirit he possessed dwells inside of you. One day you'll annihilate the ogres just as he did, and you'll free the realm from the untold grief this war has caused," she illuminated.

"So, I'm destined to be a hero then?" he remarked exuberantly.

"Yes, my dear boy. Are you ready to embrace your fate?" she inquired.

"If you'll show me how. I'll have to get a lot stronger if I'm going to defeat the ogres," he countered.

"Yes, you're certainly right. You're not ready yet, but that's where I come in. I'm here to help you learn how to harness your powers. Will you allow me to assist you?" she queried.

"Yes," he nodded in confirmation.

"Then, shall we begin?" she suggested, forming an orange orb in her hand.

"How did you do that!?" Gideon demanded excitedly.

"With magic of course. Would you like to try?" she smiled encouragingly.

"Would I ever!" he exclaimed.

"Alright...You just have to..." Tinker Bell explained the basic emotional mechanics of magic, and they met in the cave several times a week for years to come, until she knew he was ready to fulfill his true purpose.

Seven Years Later...

Gideon angrily skipped rocks across the lake, sighing despondently. He was nearing the age of thirteen, and his brother would soon be turning fourteen which meant the Duke's men would come for him and draft him to fight in the Ogre's War. The Duke had recently lowered the fighting age, and there was nothing he could do about it. His mother spent her days weeping, and his father barely uttered a word to anyone anymore. His family was falling apart at the seams. Concealing his powers were frustrating as well. His parents had forbade him from ever using them, but he still practiced his magic behind their backs. Sometimes he thought of traveling to the Duke's castle himself and murdering him in his sleep. Perhaps the wars would cease if he were no longer in the picture.

"What are you doing, Mighty Warrior?" he heard her feminine voice singing through the trees. He turned around to see the blonde haired enchantress a few yards away from him. Her hair was pulled into a messy bun, and her sage irises twinkled with centuries worth of untold wisdom.

"What are you doing here, Tink?" Gideon inquired, glancing at his comrade adorned in hunter green clothing. They'd met nearly seven years when he'd first discovered his abilities. They'd since been training in secret, preparing him for the great battle she'd predicted he'd one day fight.

"I've came to deliver your battle ax, Mighty One. Today is the day," she retorted, brandishing a sword with an ancient tongue etched across the blade.

"Is this, Is this, Gideon the Great's sword?" he questioned in disbelief, his hands dampening with perspiration.

"It is," she confirmed, presenting him the blade. Gideon hesitantly took it, a surge of great power coursing through him the moment his hand made contact with the sword.

"You'll use the blade to channel your light magic just as I taught you. Are you ready to free your people from their shackles of bondage?" she queried.

"I'm ready," he nodded compliantly, feeling slightly unsure of himself.

"Everyone is counting on you, Gideon. You must not fail us," she cautioned, gripping his shoulder lightly.

"I promise, I won't," he vowed, sensing the courage of Gideon the Great arise within him.

"Then let's go," she ordered, gesturing for him to follow. He didn't bother to look back at his tiny hovel which stood on the hill. He wasn't sure if he'd ever return home to his family and saying goodbye was futile at this point. If he were to face them now, he knew his resolve would crumble, and he wouldn't be able to go through with his mission. He fixated his gaze on the road ahead. They may not understand his destiny, but one day they would thank him for his sacrifice. Gideon sucked in an anxious breath as he caught sight of the angry red skies in the distance. They would soon reach the front lines, and he would have to fight. He banished his fears of never returning home from his mind.

"Father, mother, Baelfire, I'm doing all of this for you," he whispered quietly as he journeyed onward. As he neared the front lines, he raised the ancient blade in the air and charged towards the field of ogres, refusing to look back, for he knew he was born to this, and despite what the outcome may be, he would save everyone.


	19. Chapter 19

The Woes of War: Part Nineteen

A/AN: Well we're finally nearing the end. I've been working on this story on and off since November, and I'm honestly thankful it's finally coming to a close. I have some newer projects I'd like to focus on, but I also wanted to give this one a proper ending! A big thank you to all who've stuck with me through this one! ;)

Gideon gave a loud cry as he stormed onto the battle field looming with fierce ogres. He could hear the shouts of protest coming from behind him, but he held his ground, for he knew it was his destiny to do this. He closed his eyes, focusing solely on the ancient incantations Tinker Bell had taught him. He shouted them, vexation coursing through his lithe body as he cursed every single ogre to the bowels of hell. He raised Gideon the Great's mighty saber high in the air, bringing it down to the ground in one forceful blow. Gasps and cries of astonishment could be heard from the battlefield as the ogres began to disappear in wisps of black smoke. Great power surged through him, and he felt as if he'd been struck by lightning. The power was overwhelming, and it felt like it was consuming him from the inside out, pulling him limb from limb. Suddenly the cries of the soldiers ceased, and he heard nothing but silence. His eyes fluttered open, and a great crowd had surrounded him, demanding to know who he was. As he opened his mouth, no sound came out. The world began to spin around him, his vision waning. A captain caught him before he hit the ground, and the world dissolved into nothingness.

~X~

Belle busied herself with her cross stitch while her spinner husband monotonously spun at the wheel. She hesitantly touched her protruding abdomen. It was only a matter of weeks before she gave birth to their second child. However she could hardly find any joy in the occasion. Their son Baelfire was turning fourteen in a week which meant he'd be drafted in the wars to fight. She hadn't wanted another baby, and she taken the herbs her mother had taught her about as a child to prevent such instances, but she'd still fallen pregnant.

Rumpelstiltskin had been overjoyed at the prospect of fathering another child, until the news had came about the fighting age being lowered from eighteen to fourteen. Their offspring would be used to fight in a war they couldn't win. No matter how much it sickened them, the babe would still be born into a war torn society. If their children were lucky enough to reach adulthood they would be subjected to the same life she and Rumple had.

Her breath hitched in her throat as Baelfire came bounding through the front door, his face ghastly pale and fear stricken. "Mama! Papa! The war is over!" he shouted, causing Belle to drop her cross stitch.

Rumpelstiltskin halted the wheel, grabbing hold of his walking stick as he rose from the bench. He hobbled over to their elder son. "What are you talking about, Bae? If this is one of your jokes then it isn't funny!" he growled in displeasure, his jaw clenched tightly.

"I swear I'm not lying! They say all the ogres have been vanquished by a great and powerful sorcerer!" Baelfire bellowed. Belle clamored out of the chair, holding her back for support.

"Sorcerer?" Belle queried in puzzlement.

"Yes, they say he charged valiantly onto the battlefield and raised his sword high in the air. When it struck the ground, all of the ogres vaporized!" Baelfire relayed the tale excitedly. Rumpelstiltskin felt like scolding him for his overactive imagination until a luminous green orb floated past him.

"What is that thing? Do you see it, Rumple?" Belle demanded, rubbing her eyes for fear she was going mad.

"That I do," he uttered, rendered speechless by the floating light.

"What is that thing?" Baelfire asked, furrowing his brow quizzically.

Rumpelstiltskin held up his staff, about to swat at it. Belle reached for the glowing orb before he had a chance to assault it, cupping it in her hands protectively.

"Belle, what are you-" Rumpelstiltskin's eyes grew wide as the green orb transformed into a blonde haired woman wearing a verdant green dress. Opaque wings jutted out of her back.

"You're a fairy!" Belle exclaimed, flabbergasted by the sight of the ethereal being before her.

"That I am," Tinker Bell smiled, nodding in confirmation at her observance.

"Why are you here?" Baelfire inquired, glancing at the guardian fairy quizzically.

"I'm here to tell you about your son Gideon," she paused, giving them a moment to speak.

"What do you know of Gideon!? Where is he!?" Rumpelstiltskin demanded irritatedly, holding up his staff threateningly.

"Your son has used his magic to vanquish the ogres. The spirit of the ancient hero of old, Gideon the Great, resides within him. I'm his guardian fairy, and we've been training in secret for years for the day he would fulfill his destiny." Tink dispelled.

Belle's heart beat with trepidation. "Wait. Are you saying our son is the reincarnate of Gideon the Great?" she questioned disbelievingly.

"Yes," Tink nodded reassuringly.

"Can you take us to him? I want to see my son!" Rumpelstiltskin demanded, grasping the fairy by the arm, shaking her profusely.

"Of course I can, but I'm afraid the trek would be long. How about a faster route?" she grinned, conjuring up her silver wand.

"Yes, please!" Baelfire exclaimed, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet enthusiastically. Tinker Bell waved her wand over them, whisking them away to the palace.

~X~

Gideon felt as if his head were going to explode as he opened his eyes, drinking in his surroundings hazily. He forced himself to set up. He was definitely not back home, for this room was the size of his entire hovel.

"Where am I?" he mumbled. He clamored out of the bed, making his way to the chamber door. As he placed his hand on the knob, it burst open to reveal his family, standing there awestruck.

"Papa? Mama? Bae?" Gideon blinked quizzically as they embraced him fully, clinging to him desperately.

"What's going on? What happened?" he quizzed, attempting to string together distorted memories of the past several hours.

"You defeated the ogres, Gideon. You set everyone free from the Duke's tyranny," Tink reverberated from the doorway. He glanced over his family to see his guardian fairy smiling proudly at him.

"I don't understand...What does this have to do with the Duke?" Gideon queried.

"The Duke summoned the ogres as a distraction from his ulterior dealings with the Dark One, a demon spawn who's reeked havoc upon the land for centuries. The fairies were unable to intervene, for the Dark One was protecting the Duke from us. Destroying the ogres lifted that blanket of protection. Your powers not only destroyed them, but the Dark One's control as well. The Duke's men stormed the castle and usurped his cruel reign. They slayed him, and the power will be transferred to another, the rightful ruler of this realm," Tink illuminated.

"Who's to be the new monarch?" Baelfire inquired, peering at the ethereal fairy.

"Gideon will reign as the new king when he comes of age. The fae will instruct and guide him until he's old enough to rule on his own," Tink replied, coming to stand beside him.

"Our son is to be king?" Rumpelstiltskin questioned in disbelief.

"Yes," Tink smiled affirmatively. Belle's heart swelled with pride for her son. She always knew deep within her heart he was destined for greatness.

"It still doesn't answer the one thing I've never figured out though. Of all people, why was I born with magic?" Gideon asked Tink.

His family stood beside him as she gently clasped her hands in his. "The reason is because you're the product of true love. Your parents share true love, and those born out of true love are born with magic within them," she returned, casting a knowing glance at the spinner and his wife.

Belle gazed at her husband in awe, her heart breaking for how they'd barely touched each other in the last several months, because they were too overwhelmed with the problems looming overhead. They'd believed in each other back then, and the love they'd shared. It was time to reignite that flame of passion once and for all.

"Boys, how about I show you around your new home?" Tink suggested, sensing the two adults needed some time alone to converse.

"Is it okay father?" Baelfire inquired, glancing at his parents hopefully.

"Run along, Bae, both of you," Rumpelstiltskin obliged, nodding permissibly.

The door closed behind them, leaving Rumpelstiltskin and his wife to themselves. "Rumple?" Belle said, the first to break the silence.

"Belle," he reverberated, his heart breaking as he witnessed the pain marring her delicate features.

"How did we end up here? We've taken each other for granted for too long, and our son, he's the savior," Belle remarked, etching closer to him.

He cradled her face in his hands reverently. "Belle, I've never stopped loving you for one second, but I've allowed the woes of this war to cloud my judgment, and for that, I'm eternally sorry," he whispered, resting his forehead against hers.

"It's time to move on from that, Rumple. Our son is to be king, and in a few month's time, we'll be welcoming the newest addition to our family," she spoke, touching her protruding abdomen thoughtfully.

"Aye, and luckily for this one, she'll only have to hear about the war. She'll never be exposed to it," he whispered dropping a kiss to her brow.

"And, how do you know it's a she?" Belle inquired, scrunching her nose playfully.

"I just have a hunch, sweetheart," he chuckled, kissing her breathlessly. She sighed happily, thanking her lucky stars the next years to come would be the best years of their lives, all because she and the man whom the town had branded a coward had fallen in love and conceived a son, who despite all the odds, had become the savior.

A/AN: The next chapter will be the last.


	20. Chapter 20

The Woes of War: Part Twenty

A/AN: It's hard to believe this is the end, but I'm thankful that this fic is finally complete. Enjoy the finale, Dearies!

Belle sighed contentedly as she held the squirming babe against her breast, a daughter they'd deemed Alina. Rumpelstiltskin had chosen the moniker because it meant light, and she was a symbol of hope they never thought they'd ever posses again. Today was Gideon's coronation ceremony. Everyone was dressed in their silks and finery, and Belle found herself adorned in more layers than she'd been subjected to in her life. She missed her conventional peasant clothes, but those days were behind them. She glanced at her spinner husband adorned in his leather breeches and silk crimson shirt. His hair was neatly combed, and his cheeks were fuller. Since they'd moved to the palace, he'd put on some much needed weight. The move was good for all of them. At least they weren't starving anymore and never had to want for anything again.

The entire kingdom had come out to witness this joyous occasion. A fledgling king meant the donning of a new era. She, Rumpelstiltskin, and Baelfire were asked to proceed to the front of the audience to stand beside their son as the guests of honor.

They were each crowned with smaller crowns. As Belle scanned the crowd, her heart plummeted in her chest. In the crowd, her eyes spotted her father, mother, and her brothers and sisters. They locked gazes with each other, realization overshadowing them.

"Belle!?" her mother was the first to speak, and the crowds parted as she rushed towards her, followed by the others.

"Mother!" Belle exclaimed, tears streaming unbidden down her cheeks as she embraced her fiercely. Alina began to squall from the commotion.

"You're a mother now, and we thought you were dead!" Colette lamented, clinging to her, and smiling adoringly down at the grand child she didn't know she had.

"And, I thought you were dead! I journeyed back to our old village sometime after the attack to find your graves in the backyard," she answered.

"They buried the dead wherever they could," Maurice returned, glancing at his daughter as if she were an apparition.

"I don't know what to say! We have so much to discuss, but please, I want you to meet my family!" Belle insisted, pointing to Rumpelstiltskin and her two boys.

Rumpelstiltskin gazed at his wife puzzlingly as she led the small group of people towards him. "Belle, who are these folks?"

"Rumple, I'd like you to meet my family. They're alive," she stuttered, tears streaming down her face. He reached for her, holding her close as he gazed at the faces of his in laws, the ones he'd believed were deceased.

"You must tell us everything," Colette persisted, embracing her new son-in-law enthusiastically.

"There will be time mother. There will be time for everything. Why don't you all come with me and pay reverence to your new king, my son Gideon," she smiled pridefully.

"Of course! We want to meet him, and the rest of your family," Maurice smiled, clapping Rumpelstiltskin on the shoulder. The rest of the evening was spent with feasting and festivities. Belle had learned her family had fled with a smaller crowd of people to another village as she had. They didn't have time to go looking for her, and had never dared to venture back home because their old village had become desolate since the attack. Her family had grown just as hers had with new marriages and children.

They spent the remainder of their years in peace and prosperity, and the kingdom thrived under Gideon's reign. Not a single ogre ever invaded the land again, and they all lived happily ever after.

The End


End file.
